


The Shitennou Return! A Trip to the Beach in Peril

by chuplayswithfire



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Featuring Canonical Character Death, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Post Sailor Stars, Post-Canon, SSREVMB 2019, Sailor Senshi Friendship, Sailor Senshi Romance, Senshi & Shitennou Mini Bang 2019, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 88,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuplayswithfire/pseuds/chuplayswithfire
Summary: At the start of the hottest summer on record, the Sailor Senshi come up with a daring plan: a trip to the beach to beat the heat! But things take a turn for the unexpected when Usagi discovers that Mamoru's been keeping a major secret. Faced with a blast from the past in the form of their very first enemies, the team is forced to face the pain of their ancient past - and discover if forgiveness is possible.With a history of bloodshed and pain between them, can the Senshi and Shitennou come together, or is this trip - and worse, their friendships - ruined?Featuring artwork by the fabulous mochibuni!
Relationships: Aino Minako/Hino Rei, Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi, Past Venus/Kunzite
Comments: 49
Kudos: 52
Collections: Senshi & Shitennou Reverse Mini Bang 2019





	1. When The Rocks Come In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochibuni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibuni/gifts).

> With much thanks to Mochibuni, my partner in crime and art, who didn't ditch me when our cute crack fic turned into a monster. You can find links to her [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mochibuni) and [Tumblr](https://mochibuni.tumblr.com) here!
> 
> The artwork that she created for this story is embedded in the final chapter.  
Equal thanks to my official and unofficial beta squad, Minakosaino, Ecsentret, and Magicgenetek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the hottest day on record, and these are very sweaty Senshi. Also, the stage is set.

  
[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/6869850cd7e2903a9ca4f9558642a720/332eb9f128a01fce-85/s540x810/ede715583de60aaabccea4120af2c9859c759924.png)

It’s the hottest day of the year and one of the hottest days on record in general, and Mamoru’s apartment is the ‘it place’ to be for the Inner Senshi - and maybe the only place to be, considering the public pool is crowded, the school pool was claimed by the swim team for practice, Usagi’s dad still looks at Mamoru like he’s afraid he’ll ravish his ‘little princess’ right there in the family room, and also he’s the only one with any air conditioning. 

Every available surface is covered with a body, from Minako sprawling over the cool-ish tiles on the kitchen floor to Rei stoically claiming the balcony and first shot at any pitiful breezes rolling through to Makoto bravely sprawling over (read: sticking to) one entire leather couch. Even Ami had abandoned politeness and neat freak-iness to lay face down on the floor. 

Mamoru, as the apartment’s owner, should have had the prized place leaning directly in front of the open refrigerator. 

_ Should have. _

Usagi had beaten him to it though, and one look at her sweaty forehead and miserable blue eyes had been enough to make sure that Mamoru abandoned any and all thought of just squishing alongside her to try and mooch cold. He sat, slumped against the cabinets under his kitchen sink, barefoot, pants rolled up to his knees, and thinking about the icy-cold shower he’d be taking if not for the fact that his room was full of girls and also the love of his life, who’d want to shower with him, propriety be damned, and the knowledge that at least three-and-a-half of those girls would at best judge him and at worse never look at him the same again when he inevitably accepted that offer. 

What?

It was hot! You try rejecting an offer to take an ice cold shower with the beautiful love of your life in the middle of summer!

(The half was Minako. He could never tell with Minako.)

He was saving the future, by sitting here, the back of his shirt stuck to his back and also the cabinet door, suffering in the heat instead. At the very least, saving his reputation with the girls. 

That was worth it. 

It was. 

Really. 

It was definitely, absolutely, wor-

“We should go to the beach,” Minako says, the sound of her voice cutting through the silence the oppressive heat has given rise to. It’s the first thing anyone has said since a pile of girls had shown up and unceremoniously piled themselves in through Mamoru’s door and for a moment, no one can find the energy to speak, heat-fried brains struggling to string together enough comprehension to figure out why they aren’t _ already _ at the beach. 

From the corner of his eyes, Mamoru sees Usagi perk up - almost literally, because it almost seems like the tips of her twintails curl up a little at the thought - and open her mouth, undoubtedly to agree, when someone cuts her off. 

“It’s five p.m., Minako-chan,” Rei says with resignation, and oh, that was right. He can just barely see her from this angle.“The only beach worth going to is at least an hour away by car, let alone by train.”

So probably two hours by train, which would mean that by the time they got there, it would be time to turn around and scramble to get Usagi home before her parents could worry and get Minako herself home before her parents could decide she’d run off to London again and preemptively start packing up her things, not to mention getting the rest of them (sans Mamoru, king of take out) home with enough time to start dinner and (sans Ami, who was done with hers) listlessly attempt homework. 

“Maybe so! But at least we’d be out of the heat! Wouldn’t that be worth it? I think it’s worth it. I’m going to melt into Mamoru’s poor floor if we don’t do something, and it’s supposed to be this hot _ all night _.”

“All this week, actually,” Ami corrects, voice drifting from the living room. “The weather reports suggest that this heatwave isn’t likely to break until at least Sunday.”

It’s Monday. All of them groan, sweating masses of overheated misery, all of them. 

Still. 

A beach day isn’t a bad idea. 

“We could plan it for some other day,” Mamoru suggests. “Saturday, maybe. We could leave early and spend the whole day at the beach.”

“But Saturday is so far away!” Usagi says, finally speaking up. When Mamoru tilts his head to look at her, he can see that the back of her head is resting inside of his freezer now, can see that she’s standing up on tiptoe to manage the feat. He’s pretty sure she can’t sustain that for long. “What about Friday? We could go right after school and -”

“And push through all the crowds who will have had the same idea? Be realistic Usagi-chan, saving one day isn’t worth a crowded beach at the end of the day. Mamoru’s right - if we do go to the beach, Saturday’s the best time,” and that’s Rei, using her most firm ‘I’m right and you’re wrong and you’re just going to have to deal with it’ tone, and though Mamoru is grateful for the support, really, he can absolutely see where that’s going to get them. 

“How do you know everyone won’t be thinking of the same thing? Maybe the beach will be deserted all Friday afternoon, and by the time we get there on Saturday, the whoooooole beach will be full of people? Did you think about that?!”

Yep.

“How do I know? Because I have common sense!”

_ Yep. _

“Well my common sense says that if we go on Friday, we could have fun on the beach all afternoon and all night! Friday is just as good a day as Saturday!”

Isn’t it a little hot for this? 

“On Friday, we all have to go to school. On _ Saturday _ we don’t have to worry about that. You could just accept that I’m right -”

And now is when Mamoru is going to peel himself off the floor and the cabinets and retreat to a place with more sanity, or at least fewer arguing girls. Literally peel himself, by the way, shirt tugging away from the wood of his cabinets with a wet noise that is going to haunt him until he finds the energy to decontaminate his kitchen. 

He steps over Minako (rolled onto her back with her cheek smushed into the tile, chanting _ ‘fight, fight, fight’ _under her breath) and makes his way to the living room. His options are to sit upright in an armchair or to join Ami in sprawling across the floor like a barbarian. 

He valiantly throws aside his civility and becomes a barbarian, facing Makoto and Ami and away from the noisy argument spilling out of his kitchen. Give them ten minutes and they’ll be best friends again. Or Rei will win and Usagi will follow him to pout against his shoulder. 

Either one works, really. 

“So would this Saturday work for the two of you?” He asks, because it’s an accepted reality that this is happening now, and the only thing left to do is work out the best time for everyone. 

“I don’t have anything on my schedule for this weekend, so as long as we put a plan together, I think it should work,” Ami says after just a moment’s hesitation. He sees the way her eyes flicker towards the kitchen, all fond exasperation and just a hint of trepidation. He doesn’t blame her - if either member of the arguing pair hears them, they’ll be swept up into the ‘debate’ and they'll be morally obligated to say that Friday really is a better day for the beach than Saturday, even though it's not. 

Maybe it's not a moral obligation, but a 'oh no Usagi don't pout' obligation. 

And maybe it's just he and Ami who will do that, because the look on Makoto's face says that if she has to peel herself off the couch to stop this argument, the dreaded comment about 'talents' will be made and the argument decided in her favor. 

(He still isn't exactly sure what talent they're talking about, when these arguments happen, but it must be a convincing one. He's never seen Rei shut down so quickly as she does when Makoto trots that piece of evidence out.)

"Saturday works for me," is all she says though, words slightly muffled by the face that her cheek is squished against one of his couch cushions. Her free hand trails against the floor, as if testing the coolness of it in comparison. "We don't want to bring anything with icing to a beach, but I can make up some cookies and sandwiches to take with us Friday night."

"I can bring an ice chest," he says as agreement, an offering that any sane man would make when the offer of Mako-cooking is on the table. He's pretty sure he has an ice chest, from the last time they went to the beach, the time where Chibiusa ended up adopting a dinosaur. It's got to be somewhere around here. "I could meet you at your place in the morning, and help you carry everything to the station."

Usually, this is the part where he'd offer his car, but his car seats five, barely, and definitely not six, and the fees for leaving his car in a parking tower all day would be horrendous. He couldn't just drive _ some _ of them, it was all or nothing. Unless they all transform and decide to leap across buildings in a single bound all the way to the beach, the train is going to have to do. Even if the idea of catching a train with the girls all the way to -

All the way to -

The three of them stare at each other for a moment, each recognizing the problem, and each equally unwilling to speak it into existence, not with Rei and Usagi continuing to argue in the background, all too willing and willing to snatch up another piece of ammo for their arguments. They could hear the whining note in Usagi’s voice from here, a clear sign that the fight was winding down, and that she, as expected, was on the losing side of it. 

It's one thing to go ahead and start making plans while Rei and Usagi and most importantly, Minako, are too distracted to hear. That was just a fact of life in their group, that with so many of them, there would just have to be times when the loud and the less loud split off into separate teams. It's a _ completely different story _ to have unfinished plans lying about like kerosene, ready to reignite the war. 

Based on past experience, they probably have two minutes, at best, to scrap together a plan that neither Rei nor Usagi will be able to effectively complain about, if they want this beach trip to happen without When Best Friends Fight, Episode Eleventy-Million breaking out. 

What have they been doing, wasting time on things like melting into the various surfaces of Mamoru's apartment, languidly contemplating food choices? This isn't the time for casual event planning! This is, is,

"Mamoru-kun, calm down," Makoto's calm-but-firm voice breaks through the brambles of his chaotic thoughts, and when he looks up at her, it is with the desperate hope of a man who knows what is right and what his beloved girlfriend wants, and who knows what he will choose if left to his own devices. She stares down at him with the kind of confidence that only a woman whose most deadly attack had once been titled 'Jupiter Coconut Cyclone' could wield. 

"We've got this. This isn't the first time we've gone to the beach, remember? It isn't even the first time we've gone without it being a private beach. Don't think about what Usagi-chan and Rei-chan will say. Don't even think about what Usagi-chan will want. _ Think about what we deserve _."

He stares. Distantly, he's aware of Ami doing the same, and he hopes his eyes aren't as wide open as hers, because he doesn't think he has the cheekbones to pull it off, and if he does his mask probably doesn't look nearly as cool as he's always thought it did, and Usagi always said it looked exactly as cool as he thought it did. 

He thinks about what they deserve. Thinks about a trip to the beach at the end of a terribly hot week, about eating fresh cookies and sandwiches in the sun, and about the two piece swimsuit Usagi had just bought, white and spotted with pink in the same shade as the accents of her Super and Eternal forms, and how much he's wanted to see her in it. 

Thinks about how there hasn't been a major monster attack in over three months, and how it's the longest stretch they've had without disaster since he was sixteen. 

Ami pushes herself up from the floor, leans in closer to the pair of them. He can see the same calculations being run behind her eyes. 

"We have approximately one minute and thirty-seven seconds. If we factor in the likelihood that Usagi-chan will find the ice cream tucked in the back of Mamoru-kun's freezer, we should have just enough time to plot the perfect train route, including traffic diversions."

* * *

Mamoru waves goodbye, hiding a smile at Usagi's hangdog expression as Rei and Minako half drag her away by the arms. The group of them were leaving as a pack, planning to split off from each other as they got closer to their various drop off points, half to keep each other company and half so they can keep tossing ideas about the beach trip at each other before the plan feels too 'set' to change. On most days, he'd be walking with them - for the company, and for the chance to be alone with Usako after everyone else has finally gone their own way - but today it's just too hot. 

Usually, he'd be at least a little envious of how easy it was for the five of them to hang out and spend time together. Today is not one of those days - the heat hasn't gotten _ worse _, but it hasn't gotten any better either, and now that he's home alone, there's no one to stop him from hogging the ice-cold air coming off the freezer, or better yet, to complain if he takes a cold shower. 

Or worse, make jokes about why it had to be a _ cold _shower, thank you Minako. 

It's that thought that carries him through shutting and kicking the door, through picking up knocked over pillows and sidestepping shiny spots in his poor, desperately-in-need-of-a-mop floor. The ominous specter of the heat drives him into his bedroom, where a change of clothes from school uniform to lounge wear waits, and it isn't until he's peeling (yes, peeling) his shirt off that he sees the box on his nightstand, and the envy comes roaring back in. 

Because even now, Usagi is walking down the street with her friends, his friends, _ their _ friends, is laughing with them and talking with them and making plans with them, is comfortable with them to a level he sometimes fears he may never reach, and he's here, in his apartment, with his friends, his counterparts to her Senshi, and they can fit in a box. 

The box itself is delicate, refined - the walls made of glass and the base lined with a silk covered cotton pillow, large enough that the four stones resting atop that cushion could be lined up horizontally and still have plenty of room on all sides. 

These fine trappings and careful handling don't matter much to the stones themselves, of course. Even as Mamoru watches closely, the four stones continued to do exactly what they had done before -

Which is to say, absolutely nothing. 

No, these trappings certainly don't matter to the stones, which had been examined once, many years ago, and were carefully polished every other month to week, depending on the latest crisis. But they _ do _ matter to the spirits who inhabit them. 

Sometimes.

Supposedly. 

The Shitennou come to his call, when he calls, they give council and aid, they squabble and snipe at each other, but they can only do that when he pours his energy into them. They can only do it at his command. 

There is no chance of a spontaneous beach trip, no chance of random meet ups after classes because he's the only one with AC, no late night calls about nightmares, no quiet weekend gatherings of the parentless, no snacks dropped off to him as the result of midnight inspiration regarding a recipe. None of the passion and energy and surprise of real friendship.

It's not fair of him to think and feel that, his envy can't change the facts, but it's hard to really feel that when he realizes he's been staring at his mineral-bound guardians for nearly five whole minutes, by the count of his alarm clock, and they haven't said a word about it, because they probably don't even know he's been doing it. And even if they did know,_ would _ they really say anything about it? The girls might recognize Usagi as their princess, but she was Usagi to them first and Sailor Moon last. Their history was something they had in common, not the tie that bound them. It wasn't, isn't, and can't be like that for he and his Shitennou, not when they know 'him' best as the long dead prince of a time wiped from humanity's collective memory, rather than as himself. History, it's all that binds them. History and the power he has over them, as the only one who can call them from their stones. 

His palms hurt. His eyes are burning. The sensations register dimly, gradually, and he looks down, blinks -

Realizes he hasn't done that for a while, and that it must be why his eyes sting. Realizes that his hands are clenched into fists, nails digging into his palm through the soft material of his shirt, and that's why it hurts. 

He forces his fingers to relax. Forces his eyes closed once more. 

Breathes. 

Packs away the thoughts and feelings of the last five minutes, away somewhere in the back of his mind, to wait, unacknowledged and unneeded, like the rest of the things he can't change and can't adapt to.

Drops his shirt in the hamper and goes to take that shower. He'll finish his homework when he gets out, heat up some take-out, talk to his guardians, and figure out where the beach things he tucked away are hidden. In that order, even, maybe. 

A stray thought escapes the mental box he's so carefully packing: _ will it even matter if we talk? _

He makes sure to pack it away too. 

* * *

"We totally _ would _ have had fun if we went on Friday," Usagi says to no one, everyone, and most especially Luna. She's laying on her back, and Luna is laying like a loaf right on top of her , radiating heat but too cute to push away. Usagi would complain about the absolute injustice this is, that Luna is misusing her cuteness like this, but she's a bit preoccupied. "We could go right after school, and stay out and see the sun go down and the stars come out and it would be so romantic, and -"

"And then your father would send in the Self-Defense Force to run in and rescue his little girl from her no-good boyfriend?" Luna asks, and her voice is chiding and strict, and it is so not fair that she can look so cute and still be so mean. 

Poking holes in her ideas like that - who does she think she is, Rei-chan? A pout rises to her lips - Usagi rolls over in bed, laying on her stomach and pressing her face into a pillow. Her voice is muffled when the complaint escapes. 

"Lunaaaa, why can't you ever just agree with me?!" 

But her guardian cat is not filled with guilt and apologies. She can't see it, but she can _ hear _the laughter in her voice as she responds, all serious and superior, "If you were right about this, I would! I don't know why you're so worked up about a trip to the beach anyway - it's a horrible place, with all that sand everywhere and the waves just washing up and all those blasted seagulls."

Okay, _ sure _ Luna. Usagi makes a face, then remembers that Luna can't _ see _ her face, and lifts a hand to wave it dismissively. 

"I already told you, it would have been _ so _ beautiful, just think of all the stars that would come out and the bonfire we could light -"

"I thought you were going because it's too hot," Luna interjects, and a paw presses against Usagi's back as if for emphasis. 

Silly Luna. As if a single one of her paws could be worse than having her fuzzy body pressed right against her side! 

"And the fun we could have," she continues, as if Luna hasn't said a thing, "When everyone else started going home, but we were all still there. Papa might get upset, but Mama would calm him down. And yeah, okay, maybe Rei-chan had a point about us having less time, but it's not about _ more _ time, it's about having the best time, for all of us!"

And maybe her voice rises a little bit there. Maybe it even breaks a little, and not even in a whiny way that she could cover up or that Luna would totally ignore. And maybe she's pressed her face into the pillow for a different reason than just huffing and puffing. 

And maybe she's really, really overreacting, and even overthinking it. She probably is. She bets any second now Luna's going to call her a crybaby and tease her about getting upset over something that doesn't even make any sense, all because she can't really put it into words, and -

"Are you worried about something, Usagi?" Luna's voice isn't chiding though, or teasing, or annoyed. It's quietly concerned, and right up against her ear, and now that she thinks about it, her side is a little bit cooler…

She lifts her head, blinks away the little spots in her vision from having her eyes squeezed shut against her pillows. Luna's right there, standing up on the pillow with her back hunched over in the air so she can get claws, paws tucked in like she did when she forgot herself and started kneading away at whatever soft fabric Usagi's poor mama had left lying around, but her eyes are focused, and looking right at her. 

Her ears are cocked back. Her tail is low. 

"Something more than just a spoiled date night," she adds, and manages to get just a little bit closer without actually seeming to move, stretched out so that she can press her cheek to Usagi's and it's not fair, that it's cute, that it's comforting, that most of all, it works. 

Her mouth just starts moving, words falling out all by themselves. 

"It's just, I mean, I know… I know we're going to have fun on Saturday. Of course we are! We're all going to be together at the beach, and we'll be there the whole day, Rei-chan and Mako-chan and everyone, they were all right about that. But _ everyone's _ going to think of that. It's going to be so crowded."

There's a soft flick of motion against her cheek, one of Luna's ears shifting, a sign that she's going to say something, and Usagi just, she just _ panics _. She just keeps talking, because now that she's started and now that the words are coming and she knows what the feeling she'd been feeling all night was, she has to get it out. 

"Ami-chan and Mamo-chan, they hate crowds! Even if everyone is doing their own thing, there's going to be _ so _ many people, and at least some of them are sure to watch us! And Mina-chan, sure, oh she loves to flirt and I bet she'll find tons of cute boys to talk to, but she hates crowds too, she never relaxes around them, not ever. Way too many people and there's too much that can happen and even if she never says it, I know she gets worried thinking about what happens if there's an attack, or a monster, or a new enemy shows up, and there are all those people around and we can't transform?"

She has to take a breath, a deep one, but then, more words, her worries and fears given shape and form and spilling out like the rice from her lunch this morning, when she knocked it off her desk. "Rei-chan's the same way, what if she gets all worried and intense and we do build a bonfire and then she just stares into the whole time, like it's the sacred fire? And Mako-chan, she likes the beach a lot too, but what if there's a ton of boys flirting with Minako and trying to flirt with Rei and they ignore her, like they did at the park last month, because they're stupid and awful and they can't see how amazing she is just because she's taller than them, and then she feels bad, and her whole day is ruined? What do I do then?"

Her voice breaks, and she knows it's getting too high, knows she's too loud, that it's a miracle that Mama and Papa and Shingo haven't heard her already, she can't help it. She's never ever ever ever ever been quiet in her whole life and now especially she just doesn't think she can do it. 

It's supposed to be fun and games, it's going to be fun and games, and they're going to have a great time, but.

But what if they don't?

Luna is quiet for a long moment, just watching her watch her, her ears all pinned back, her tail limp on the bed sheets, her eyes watching, just watching, expression unreadable.

"It's not your job to make everyone happy," she says, soft, like she's talking to Diana, like it's those long days after a big fight, when Usagi doesn't know what to do with herself and is torn between being unable to get out of bed for the sheer relief and being unwilling to sleep because sleeping means being at home away from her girls. "And just because you're going when it's busy, doesn't mean everything will go wrong."

And she shrinks. She really does, she just shrinks down, feeling small, and stupid, and,

"But maybe you'd feel better if you talked to everyone about it?"

"Huh?" She asks, or breathes, maybe, head rising up to meet Luna's steady stare. 

"I said, maybe you'd feel better if you talked to everyone about it. It's been nearly five weeks since you all fought something that needed more than a Moon Tiara Action or a Burning Mandala or any real strength to destroy, really. And it's nice, but it is a little nerve-wracking, isn't it? If you talked to everyone about your worries, they'd probably share their own, and then you could all feel better. You could even start with Mamoru-san, and watch a movie after." she finishes, primly, like she isn't suggesting a sort of date, and like she hasn't just been incredibly, super-ly, insightful. 

It's such a simple idea, but it hadn't even occurred to her, not really. It had felt silly, to be so worried when everything is going well, and not like her at all, but Luna's… right.

She's absolutely right. 

She does want to make sure that everyone is happy. She _ wants _ to, it's not like she really thinks it's her job or anything, it's just, sometimes, it's like maybe no one notices, all the little things they do when they feel bad, and it feels like she has to do something or say something, because if she doesn't maybe no one will, and then one of her girls, or her Mamochan, they'll just be sad, and she could have fixed it. 

And maybe it's a little worse, even though it should be better, just because nothing has happened _ at all _, and nothing keeps on happening, even when it feels like something really should have happened. It's dumb, isn't it? She should be enjoying it. She's only been Sailor Moon for three years, that makes fourteen whole years where nothing went wrong.

But maybe things will go wrong, and she's worried about it. And maybe everyone else is too. 

Maybe she'll talk to everyone and it will turn out she really is being silly. But maybe she's not. Maybe Mamochan feels this way, or Ami-chan, or Rei-chan, or Mako-chan, or Mina-chan, or maybe they're _ all _ feeling that way, and they don't have to change the plans they made today, but they could just talk about it. And feel better. 

"...for a furball, you're really smart Luna," Usagi says, and then scoops her bristling little guardian up and hugs her to her chest. 

* * *

"It's been a month."

"No, no, it's been a week, trust me."

"You're both wrong, it's only been a few hours!"

"A few hours? Come on Jay, if you're not going to be serious, don't put your hat in the ring."

"Agreed. It's obviously been far longer than a few hours, _ just _ as it has obviously been longer than a week."

"Okay, but, we have no idea how long it's been. So how come you can say a month and _ you _ can say a week, but when I say a few hours, I'm wrong?"

There is a pause, as two specters glance at each other with expressions that can only be described as 'can you believe this guy?' before they say as one, "Because you're wrong."

From the 'corner' of the space the four have found themselves in, the as of yet silent fourth offers only, "You should have seen that coming."

The worst part is that as usual, Kunzite isn't wrong, and Jadeite knows it. It's just annoying, because he isn't joking about this, but the endless void of their prison would crack and splinter apart before either Nephrite or Zoisite admitted that he could possibly have a point.

They don't know how long it's been, and unless Mamoru calls on them, takes the time from his every day comings and goings to reach out and give them an update on the world, they never will. Complaining can't change that, grumbling and moaning and whining can't change it, so what's the point of assuming the worst? Why shouldn't they just assume it's only been a few hours?

Why shouldn't he give them some slim hope that Mamoru wouldn't want to let that much time pass between visits?

"You're not wrong," he admits, taking his mind off his thoughts and focusing it on Kunzite instead. 

Looking at him is, was, and probably always will be, strange. They don't have physical bodies, and as far as they can tell, they don't have energy-based forms either. They just exist, outside of all physicality, and that means there's nothing to _ see _. Nothing solid for light to refract from, no aura for their magic to sense, he doesn't even have eyes' to 'see' through or 'ears' to hear from, so really, it would make the most sense for the world to be an endless void of nothing, but it's not. 

Instead, he looks at Kunzite, and it's like he's seeing layers and layers and layers of him, the boy he had been in a world lost to them by time and deed, the leader who had trained him for war, the commander who had guided him in treachery, the rival general he had once scorned and flinched away from all at once -

Sees the shadow of a man who might have lived in the world Mamoru inhabits, once, and he hopes, as he hopes every time he catches sight of that faint layer amidst layers, that there isn't a similar shade lurking in him, so far gone that not even a memory of another life remains.

"But I wish you weren't right either," he adds, looking away from it all, from the boy, the leader the commander, the general - tells his friend. His voice is all manufactured annoyance and pouting petulance. A perfect mask to cover that actually looking at Kunzite had been too much right now. Is still too much. Might always be too much. 

Kunzite sighs 

(He exhales, actually, barely audible and so subtle that it could have been unintentional, save for the fact that they did not have to breathe, that every action and reaction, every breath and blink and swallow is intentional, is a desperate recreation of something that they no longer are. 

Of them all, only Kunzite had ceased to pretend entirely, had allowed the mundanity of human gestures and human instincts fall away like a snake shedding an ill-fitting and battered skin in favor of what was lying underneath, and so every exhale is intentional, is purposeful, and must be considered and evaluated and understood 

Jadeite does not begrudge the strangeness of it, not in this strange land, not when he himself cannot help his own compulsive need to speak and be heard, not when Zoisite speaks of appearances that none of them can see through the layers of his being, not when Nephrite looks to stars in heavens that no longer share their brilliance with them and insists that he hears their wisdom still)

And that is all he says and does. 

It's enough. When a mere glimpse reveals the totality of a soul, every shape it has taken and every path it has walked, even the simplest of things is enough. 

"I keep thinking that if I say it enough, my optimism will rub off. I mean, why shouldn't it? Zoi's pessimism is what got to Neph, why shouldn't I be able to win him back to my way of thinking?" No response, which means carry on. He does so without hesitation. "You're determined to stay neutral, and Zoi's determined to - well, he already died mad, so I guess 'die mad' is redundant, but it's the spirit of the thing, and that makes Neph the scale tipper that I need to win over so this place can be a little less gloomy."

And wouldn't that be a miracle, if their too-intimate, too-vulnerable void of an afterlife could be a bit less gloomy and a bit more lived in? 

They exist, and so surely, they can make other things exist. The void has boundaries - there is a limit to how far they can stray from this center that they now gather about, and all attempt at circumventing those boundaries has only ever ended with the would-have-been trespasser starting over from the center of it all. 

If there can be boundaries, and a them to be bound, then surely they can put their heads together and figure out how to make a radio. Or a record player. Or hell, at this point, he would take a straw. 

He could make an instrument out of a straw, he's sure. 

"The two of them believe we deserve to live again," Kunzite says, and Jadeite jumps, for he had stopped expecting a response. "And so as long our beliefs oppose, they'll never be won over."

He says it so seriously, with so much finality that for a moment Jadeite feels as though he has flesh with which to feel goosebumps. 

"I wouldn't exactly put it like that," he says, hedging, still refusing to look at his friend (his enemy. his brother. his commander). "That sounds a little, final, and I just don't think we should worry about it so much. They act like being a little dead is the worst thing that's ever happened to us."

It isn't a sound that comes from Kunzite, so much as it's a sensation, a dimming of sorts, and Jadeite grimaces to himself as he considers what memories he's evoked with that response, and there's only one way to board up that hole before it can swallow them. 

"I mean, remember the time the Americans invented those awful toys with the eyes, and the beaks, and you know, that terrible dead-eyed stare, what were they called, Kirbys?"

"Furbys."

"Right, right, Furby, that was it! And they were so awful, and so popular, that the Senshi were sure they were one of our plots, and kept breaking into toy stores looking for us, and of course, we weren't there, because all of us were trying and failing to get just one human to look at whatever awful junk we were _ actually _ pushing, I think I had some kind of take two on the chanella going on, because I was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, and -"

From across the room, Zoisite and Nephrite watch with vague interest. They're too far from the other pair to actually hear what they're talking about, in detail, but there’s the consistent buzz of noise that means someone is talking, and they’re sure it’s Jadeite. 

And he’s talking. 

And he’s _ talking _.

"You know, the fact that we don't have to breathe has truly been a blessing only to him and a curse for the rest of us," Zoisite muses, trying for a moment to focus his hearing or read his constantly shifting lips. He catches _ danger _ , and _ gala _ , and _ the prince, _ he hears, but none of these are right, none of those shapes match the sounds he’s hearing, useless moments in time captured and repeated endlessly, because none of the layers match the words being spoken. But the effort is abandoned quickly, as soon as he catches the word _ Furby_.

No, not again. Never again will he bear witness to those monstrosities. 

"When he figured that out, it was all over for us," Nephrite agrees, and when Zoisite risks a glance in his direction he sees the uniform of the Dark Kingdom, sees thick hair pulled up into a messy bun, and then there is a shift and he sees a cape of maroon below and a rich brown above, and it sears the eyes. 

He looks back to the others. At a distance, he can almost pretend the splintered vision of layer after layer of existence rising to the top is just a trick of the light. 

There is silence, for the moment, the weight of their earlier speculation heavy, and he waits for Nephrite to break. 

It doesn't take long, really. 

"How long do you think it's really been?" _ Since he summoned us _, goes unsaid, both unnecessary and too vulnerable to be spoken aloud.

He considers his answer, aware that Nephrite would know his uncertainty in an instant if he but looked at him, a half dozen splintered images captured in ill at ease moments, hesitation revealed as anxious calculations rather than carefully offered speculation.

(One more reason to long for a body, that he could be in control of exactly how much of himself could be seen, known, understood.)

"You were probably correct to say it's been a week, give or take the odd day or so. It's too hopeful to say it's been but a few hours, and I'll admit I was playing the cynic to suggest that he would allow an entire month to lapse without calling on us."

Once upon a time, he would have rather had the flesh shorn from a piece of him than acknowledge that he had spoken in “err” to Nephrite's truth. But that had been (or so it felt) a long time ago. 

"If nothing else," he continues, allowing his gaze to drift from Kunzite and Jadeite's shifting forms to the empty white that was the 'floor', "Our prince is still too good of a man to let us rot forgotten."

_ For now _ , he thinks to himself. _ But how long can that last? _

"Come," he says, rising to his feet. "Let's go rescue Kunzite."


	2. I Like Big Rocks and I Cannot Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret is out, and decisions must be made.

Tuesday dawns brighter and hotter than Monday, revised weather forecasts delivering the gloomy news that 'oh yes, it _ can _ get worse'. 

Because of course it can. 

"I can't believe I'm late again!" Usagi cries to herself as she runs to school, toast held between two of the fingers on her right hand, left hand tight around the strap of her backpack. "Stupid Luna! I can't believe she didn't wake me up!"

Never mind that her alarm went off so many times it refused to snooze anymore, this absolutely isn't her fault, not at all, not even a little bit! What's the point of sharing your room with a talking cat if she won't even wake you up in the morning? 

She passes all kinds of people on the way up, running past pedestrians catching early breakfasts and salarymen taking the stairs up from subway stops and kids in school uniforms laughing and cars stuck in morning traffic, toast getting colder and colder and throat getting drier and drier and ohhhh what a day to forget her water bottle at home! 

Why didn't Mama remind her to get it on her way out?!? Why did she have to be late today, when it's so hot?!

This is the worst! This is the worst, this is the worst, this is the -

"Usagi-chan?"

The voice reaches her ears, but by the time she places it Usagi's already run down half the block and goes skidding - no tumbling down now - nope, hopping wildly to keep on her feet - right into a street light. Her pinwheeling arms are absolutely no help, jerking out in front of her as the sudden collision takes the wind right out of her. Her toast is crushed under heel as she clutches her poor aching hurting face. 

There is really only one thing to do. 

"Owwwww!" More than a whine, but with too much wheezing to be an outright wail, tears rise to - but don't fall from - Usagi's eyes as she stumbles away from the pole and presses her hands to her chest. "Stupid pole, why did you have to be right there?!"

"Oh no, Usagi-chan, are you alright?" The voice from earlier is back, and close enough and expected enough that this time it's obvious that it's Makoto's voice, calling out to her, and in the face of sympathy and comfort, Usagi doesn't even question why Makoto - far more timely and responsible than Usagi herself - is also late for school. 

"No! I tried to stop when you called my name and I fell and I hit this stupid pole and dropped my toast and now I'm going to be late _ and _ starve _ and _ hurt all day and -"

And then Makoto utters the words that completely unravel Usagi's entire morning.

No, her entire _ life. _

"But we still have twenty minutes to get to school?"

"W-what?"

Makoto's worried face cracks, the corners of her lips curling up even as she bites at them. Usagi can see her smile. This is. No. It can't be. 

"We set our alarms for an hour early, so we could get to school and talk more about the beach trip, remember?" Her voice is so kind. 

"B-but, Rei-chan -" This can't be possible. 

"Doesn't have school today, because they're celebrating some kind of saint, so she's free to meet us there, remember?"

No! Luna would have said something!

"But Mamochan -" 

"Said that you could catch him up later, because you're going on a _ date _ tonight?" And that's not fair Mako-chan, don't use that teasing tone of voice on her right now!

But she _ does _ remember that. It's been on her calendar all week because the cafe by Mamoru's apartment is having a special menu based on her favorite, favorite, _ favorite _ shoujo manga and they were going to go together for their special date on Friday, so today they were just going to watch a movie at his place, and oh no. 

Oh no. 

"But then… I ran all this way… I dropped my toast…"

Makoto's hand falls to her shoulder, patting gently. 

"I was wondering why you were running, but I didn't think you'd forget. Didn't you see all the people on their way to school?"

The worst part is Usagi knows she doesn't mean to rub it in, but now that she's thinking about it, she _ does _ remember passing people in school uniforms, walking casually with their friends like they didn't have a care in the world. Because they _ didn't _ have a care in the world. Because they weren't late to school. 

Because _ she _wasn't late to school. 

Her knees weaken at the very thought, and Makoto's face goes all panicked and worried as Usagi drops right down to her knees and - well, she doesn't cry, she's not _ that _ much of a crybaby anymore, but she wants to.

It's getting hot already and the back of her uniform is sticking to her and her breakfast is _ gone _and it was all for nothing. How could this happen to her?

"How could Luna do this to me? Why didn't she tell me I wasn't late?!" She wails, turning her head so she can keep Makoto in her line of sight as the brunette starts to circle behind her. "I could have gone back to sleep -eh? What, hey, Mako-chan put me down!"

"Nope," Makoto says, and she shifts so that she can better haul Usagi up and to her feet, the tips of her fingers digging into the ticklish flesh of Usagi's underarms as she does so. The blond's protests transform into shrieks of involuntary laughter at the ticklish sensation, body twitching and spasming as she tries to get away. Tries and fails, anyway. "If we hurry, we'll make it on time, and everyone will be so surprised you made it, they won't guess the reason why."

Dragging Usagi along is easy with Makoto's superior strength and height, especially with the way the twin-tailed girl goes still with surprise as she considers the idea. Easy, but still awkward, which is why Makoto adds,

"But if we're late, I'm telling Rei-chan and Minako-chan it was your fault, so -"

The idea that they could still be late hadn't even crossed her mind. The idea that they _ weren't _ late was still settling, sinking in. 

The idea that she could get this sweaty and hungry and still be late? That Rei-chan could get to puff up and make some comment about laziness? That Minako-chan show up _ right before her but still get to make fun? _

Not allowed!

"Then let's go! Right now!" And with that, Usagi slips herself free and goes from being helplessly dragged to vigorously doing the dragging as she runs behind Makoto and starts pushing at her back. 

"Hey, hey, I'm going, I'm going -!"

* * *

"And we made it! Before Rei-chan _ and _ Minako-chan, it was just Ami-chan who beat us, and sometimes, I swear, it really does seem like she just sleeps there, Mamo-chan, it's suspicious sometimes!"

They're sitting in his apartment, alone this time and sprawled out on the opposite ends of one of his couches in celebration of that fact. The air conditioning is blowing at full blast, and with just the two of them around, it was actually keeping things pretty cool. Which was good, because every so often Usagi would scooch across the distance separating them to cuddle, and somehow, it being hot just didn't seem like a reasonable excuse for shaking her off. 

Now is one of those moments, his textbook evacuated from his lap to the floor in favor of one of Usagi's thighs, as she half sat in his lap and half curled against his side, her arms wrapped around him, her head on his shoulder. It's too hot for them to stay in this position for long, but for now, while she tells her story, it's perfect. 

"I think it's more likely that she's a morning person," he suggests, and combs his fingers through one of her twin-tails. He should be more honest about the cuddling - it isn't just Usagi 

initiating, not when he too feels the need to be close, to rejoice in the peace. He can feel her love through his skin, radiant, with a warmth that always reminded him more of the sun than the pale moon. With his psychometry open and active, for once not hidden away, he can feel the static of her excitement, rising and falling in minute dips as she winds herself up and gradually unwinds. 

He can feel her feeling him, feel her eagerness to be connected in this way, not simple acceptance but absolute delight, and it's one of the things he loves most about her, that she doesn't just _ accept _ him, she embraces him. 

"That's even worse," Usagi says, drawing his mind away from his musings and back to the topic at hand. He can see her cheeks puffing up in a (truly adorable) pout. "I don't get that at all. How do you wake up in the morning without wanting to just roll over and hit the snooze button?"

"How do you stay up all night without passing out after eleven?" Mamoru poses in response, resting his chin on the top of her head. She giggles in spite of herself, and he can feel her amusement, bubbling over and ruining her pouting. "It's just habit. And studies _ do _show that getting an early night's sleep helps with stress and recall. It's better to rise early than sleep late."

"Say it's not so!" A pair of fingers taps against his chin as Usagi splays a hand across her forehead in dramatized horror. "If Ami-chan tells Mama that, my late night manga reading will be over for sure! I could never get the chance to read manga again!"

"Anything but that," Mamoru gasps in mock horror, reaching up to clutch her hand and draw it away from her forehead. "How would we ever find out if Tohru succeeds in breaking the curse?"

"Exactly!"

And then they're laughing, the both of them, at the normality of their problems, at the ease of their closeness, at the comfort of being close, with nothing to get in the way of it. 

It's good laughter, from the belly, and the last remnants of tension, remnants Mamoru hadn't even been aware of, falls away at last. He can feel the same thing happening to Usagi, can feel her relaxing into his arms with full abandon. 

Tightens his arms a little, as worry blossoms under her joy, before she has a chance to say anything. 

"Usako?" He asks, when the words don't come. 

He feels her sigh more than he hears it, and then she's twisting in his arms and in his lap, until they're facing each other rather than sitting back to chest. Her mouth is creased in the faintest frown. Her eyes don't quite meet his. 

"You," she starts, before he can say anything more, "You would tell me if anything were ever too much, right?"

And he just has to stare, for a long moment, because he truly doesn't know where that's coming from. He must stare for too long though, because Usagi gets nervous, her face scrunching up and her eyes getting big and anxiety spiking like static where his skin touches hers. 

"You'd tell me if you felt bad about anything, right? You wouldn't just...just keep it in and hide it and try to pretend like everything was fine and give yourself one of those tension headaches like when Nehellenia was around and she put that glass in your eye, or like the nightmares you had when Chibiusa first came or -"

Mamoru takes a page from Usagi's book, and presses a finger to her lips to shush her, holding still as her lips slowly stop moving as she takes note of him.

He just needs a moment to think. Where is this coming from? Only a moment ago they had been laughing together, and now she was on the verge of tears, and he has no idea why. 

But if there's one thing their years together have taught him, it's that they need to _ talk _ to each other. And she's trying. So even if he doesn't understand, he's going to meet her halfway. 

"Usako," just the one word, her name, and her eyes lift to meet his. He picks his words carefully, trying to convey his honesty, his genuine confusion, without making her feel foolish for asking. "I promise you, I'm not hiding anything. I really am fine. I didn't say anything because I was surprised, not because there's something going on."

And he sees her believe him. Feels embarrassment grow to replace the anxiety. 

Removes his finger from her lips and captures her hands instead, holds them close, his fingers and hers intertwined. "There's something bothering you, something that I missed. Help me understand?"

Asking for help might be cheating, just a little bit, but it works, or he hopes it does, anyway, watching Usagi draw in one deep breath after another. He rubs the tips of his fingers over her knuckles as he waits. 

She sniffs. "Last night, Luna told me that it's not my job to make everyone happy. That everything will probably be fine at the beach, even if it's a busy day. And… she's right. I know she is. We're going to go to the beach and finally stop melting under the awful, awful heat, and have a _ great _day. But I can't stop worrying about you, and about the girls, and about… something going wrong. It's silly, isn't it? Everything's finally going right and we're all excited and I'm worrying about how it could all go wrong."

It's the strangest thing, the feeling that sweeps through him. Like he's at once denying her words and finding relief in them, an unavoidable truth that he wants to both flee from and embrace. 

Because of course he understands how she feels, not just through his empathy, but because he feels the same thing. 

"Like we're in a bubble, and it could pop at any second," he suggests, and Usagi's hands stiffen in his. "I think this is the first time in three years that we've gone more than a month without anyone being kidnapped, brainwashed, seriously injured, and it doesn't feel real."

"That's it," Usagi breathes, and he can see tears in her eyes, knows that they're tears of relief. "It's like everything's okay just so it can fall apart, _ again _."

Knowing that doesn't stop him from leaning in, pressing his lips to the corner of one eye, brushing the tears from the other away with his thumb. 

"I don't want to say that everything's fine, because I could be wrong. Somewhere out there a new enemy could be planning their attack. But even if it every possible thing that could go wrong does go wrong, we'll be okay. You know why?"

"Because we'll get through it again?" Usagi answers, and her tears have stopped, her lips shaped into a tiny, fake little smile. 

"We would," he says, because they always have, no matter what came their way and what bodily injury (or bodily destruction) they had overcome. "But I was going to say, because we'll get through it together. You and me. You and the girls. All of us together."

The thought of the Shitennou comes to mind. His guardians. The companions that should have been his, the friends he should be taking classes with, sharing secrets with, counting on to make it through the end of the world with. 

But they're in a box. Bound to stones so fragile he didn't dare risk leaving the box anywhere but the very center of his nightstand or cushioned on his bed. Distancing themselves from him whenever he called, master, prince, Endymion on their lips whenever he spoke, instead of his name.

They're in a box. They don't really know him. He doesn't really know them. The people he trusts with his life are the Senshi. 

The person he trusts with his heart is _ here _. 

Mamoru squeezes Usagi's hands, their interlaced fingers pressed together. He smiles, despite his worries. "We're in this together, and so we'll make it through, like we always have. I'll even make a justice speech, if you want."

He uses his Tuxedo Mask, Jewel Thief voice for the suggestion, trying for aloof and mysterious. To his own ears, it lands somewhere closer to 'goofy' and 'over the top', but Usagi giggles, a surprised sound of genuine happiness, so he counts it as a win. 

"Maybe later," she says, and lifts their joined hands to brush her cheek, wipe away the lingering wetness. "You're right. Whatever happens, we'll get through it together."

He embraces her, or maybe she embraces him. It doesn't really matter, in the end. What matters is that they're bundled together in each other's arms, taking comfort in each other. What matters is that they're going to be okay.

* * *

By the time the cuddling stops, there's dinner to be eaten, a buzz on Mamoru's intercom announcing the arrival of their delivery guy, ready with the pizza and desserts that they had both almost forgotten about. The food was hot and just greasy enough to be exactly what they need. The movie they had picked out would wait for another day, they agree - after that conversation, something lighthearted and silly was in order. 

"Ojamajo Doremi?" Usagi suggests, and Mamoru only has to think about it for a second before he's nodding in agreement. The cutesy show about witch apprentices sounds just right, and unless Usagi's caught up on her own, it's been a couple of weeks since they last watched. 

"Sure," he says, "I'll grab drinks and use the bathroom, if you don't mind setting it up?"

"I've got it!"

Usagi's parents won't expect her until later - she said she'd told them about their date, and that her parents had agreed that her good grades meant she could have the occasional date on a weeknight. So they have plenty of time to eat, to relax, before he has to take her home. Ojamajo sounded better, and if they got bored, they could always watch Detective Conan. She's gotten him the second half of the last season on VHS for his last birthday, and he still hasn't gotten around to seeing it. 

In the kitchen, he takes a second to debate between fruit punch and soda, and grabs the soda. If they're going to have pizza, they might as well, right?

"Oh no!" Echoes from the other room, and straightens up fast enough that he smacks the top of his head on the roof of the refrigerator. Down goes the bottle of soda. Alright, fine, fruit punch it is, he thinks, clutching his head. 

"Usako?" He calls, and the only answer he receives is an aggravated groan. He shuts the refrigerator and deposits the fizzing soda bottle in the sink. "Usako, what happened?"

"It's nothing," Usagi calls back, and when he rounds the kitchen wall, he can see that she's right, except,

"Dropped your pizza?" It's an unnecessary question - the red stain on the white blouse is evidence enough. Usagi shakes her head, a blush burning across her cheek. 

"I picked up a slice and the topping fell off," she mutters, and he's pretty sure her pout is at least halfway because of what a waste that is. 

"You can grab one of my shirts," he offers as he sets their drinks and a pair of cups down. 

"Really?" 

"Of course! Grab one, I still need to use the bathroom. We can throw your shirt in the washer and it should be cleaned up before you have to go."

"Great!" Usagi enthuses, and they leave the room in opposite directions - she for the bedroom, and he for the bathroom. 

The apartment is filled with a comfortable silence, the faint noise of TV static the only thing to break it up. He does his business, and is in the process of washing his hands when there comes a scream.

Not the 'Mamochan it's a spider!' scream. Not the 'wah I tripped over one of your books why are they always piled on the floor?!?' scream. 

A real scream, one of genuine fear and distress, and Mamoru is tearing out of the bathroom in an instant, transforming rather than waste the time to get his hands dried and his pants properly zipped and buttoned.

"I'm coming Usako!"

Their earlier discussion comes to mind, how quick he'd been to reassure her that they could handle anything together, and he wonders if that was tempting fate, if mentioning aloud that weeks have passed since they were last attacked was a taunt the universe couldn't bear to ignore. Hopes it wasn't arrogance to suggest that they could manage whatever came their way. 

He dashes from one end of his apartment to the other. An enemy has never dared to invade their actual homes, but it just figures that date night is the night when it all comes crashing down, and it figures that it would happen when he had his literal pants down and so of course it just figures that the second he got his confidence together to believe that there's nothing they can't handle that this happens. It figures. 

But he _ won't _be wrong. They will handle this. 

Through the living room, down the hall, and he can see light spilling through the open door to his bedroom, and hear voices, muffled, vaguely familiar but so unimportant compared to the whimpering he can also hear, high pitched and scared and tearing at his heart, a sound he hasn't heard in years -

Mamoru bursts into the room, ready for anything and everything, already gathering energy to launch a 'La Smoking Bomber' at whoever and whatever it was that had scared Usagi so badly.

He isn't prepared for the sight of his ghostly guardians standing around his nightstand, snapping at one another and apologizing to Usagi all at once. He isn't prepared for the sight of Usagi herself, transformed and squished into a corner, the bulky, cartoonish wings of her eternal form flattened against the walls of his bedroom, her scepter clutched to her chest like a talisman. 

There's a scorch mark on his wall, directly behind the gathered Shitennou. Shot right through them, probably. 

He stares, dumbstruck. Energy flares and dies around him as his attack collapses and his transformation fails. 

"It's not my fault I came out in this outfit!" Jadeite is protesting, half hiding behind Kunzite, his arms up to defend himself from Zoisite, who's poking at him incredulously, snapping, "Really?" over and over. 

And to be fair, he has good reason to be. Zoisite and Kunzite are clad in immaculate versions of their original uniforms, the attire that haunts the memories that belong more to Prince Endymion than to Mamoru Chiba. Nephrite is clad in a vaguely familiar suit, pale blue with a butter yellow button down beneath, probably from his masquerade as Masato Sanjouin.

Jadeite alone looks like he stepped out of old nightmares, clad in the sharply pressed uniform of the Dark Kingdom. 

No wonder Usagi screamed. Even knowing what's going on, even having seen this happen before, he kind of wants to scream too. 

"Prince," Nephrite says, the first to address him, and all eyes - _ all eyes _, Usagi's included, confused and scared and accusatory - jump to him. The noise halts, Zoisite and Jadeite visibly biting back commentary, Usagi's voice catching in her throat. 

Nephrite, and Kunzite too, are the only ones who look even close to calm, the Northern General scratching the back of his head in probably honest confusion, the Middle Eastern General’s face as blank and neutral as a porcelain doll. Dark hair tangles around long fingers. "Any idea on what's going on here?"

Honestly? Not even the slightest. 

"I just got here," Mamoru reminds the general, and the room as a whole. "I -"

Usagi finally finds her voice.

It's a loud one.

"What is going on?! Why are they here? _ How _ are they here? They're supposed to be gone! We got rid of them years ago, how did they get here, and - and why did you hide it from me?! I thought you said there wasn't anything to worry about?!"

Her scepter is pointed at Nephrite. It would have been reasonable to guess that that's because he's the one who addressed Mamoru first and broke the spell of her nerves.

But Jadeite's the most visibly threatening, dressed in the old uniform, dressed as the man who had sent the first wave of monsters into Tokyo, the first to try and kill Usagi and her friends. If this were about fear and threats, Mamoru knows - knows - that she would be aiming at him. 

He hadn't been there, when Nephrite died, when the enemy killed him, but he'd heard about it. Heard about how horrible his death was. About how terrifying it had been to see someone die, really die, in front of her. 

About how awful she'd felt that she was glad because of what he'd been doing to Naru, playing with her heart and dragging her into danger. He would bet his whole fortune that as frightening as Jadeite's uniform was, the return of Masato Sanjouin was even worse, in Usagi's eyes.

He thinks Nephrite knows it, too, with the way he flinches back. It's not fear. The blast mark behind them is proof enough that the faint transparency of their forms isn't a trick, that they don't have bodies to be hurt. It's guilt. (He hopes so, anyway. Hopes that the man he's been trying to know would feel guilty about what he'd done, about seeing the accusation in Usagi's eyes. It certainly hurts him.)

"Usako," he says, and for a moment he doesn't know how to go on. She's right. She's asked, and he'd said no, he'd said there was nothing, because he had spared them only enough of a thought to think that they wouldn't be involved in whatever came next. Because he still didn't know how to feel. "I'm - I'm sorry."

It's the wrong thing to say. He can tell immediately. Her face falls, expression hurt.

But before he can say anything at all, the soft lines of her mouth harden, her eyes sharp. Not Usako needing comfort, but Moon ready to make a call.

"I'm calling the others," she says, and it's not a question.

So much for date night. 

* * *

Usagi doesn't look at Mamoru at all while she calls her girls. She knows if she looks, and he's upset or sad, or even half as confused as she is, she'll break and it's bad enough she screamed when she saw Jadeite. She fought Galaxia! She fought Chaos! She fought Beryl, if she wants to reach back that far, if she _ has _ to reach back that far, and she was his boss! She's not the crybaby she was when he was ruining lives with his pet store and his radio show and his gimmicky cruise line. 

But that uniform. 

Those eyes, still looking down at her, like she'd never had that itty bitty growth spurt, like she was still that middle schooler whose biggest worry was getting yelled at for bringing home a bad grade. 

The shock and confusion as she went from looking at the rock collection Mamoru had never mentioned to a face off against four old enemies, one still in that awful uniform…

So she had screamed and dropped the shirt in her hands and transformed without a second of conscious thought and fired off an attack that should have at least knocked them off their feet, and it had done exactly squat. Diddly squat, even. And now they know she's scared of them, _ and _ that she maybe, probably, it really looks like, can't hurt them. 

So Usagi doesn't look at Mamoru and his maybe sad, maybe upset, maybe confused eyes. And she doesn't look at the Dark Kingdom's generals either. Minako would be saying not to take her eyes off of them, and Rei would be snapping that she should have tried another attack, but neither of them are here, so there. 

She does call Minako first though, because she'll know what they should do, and Rei last, because otherwise she'll come before the others, and in uniform too. And they tell her, all of them, that they'll be there soon. To stay safe. To keep an eye on them. 

"If a Moon Healing Escalation doesn't fix this, you can tell Mamoru that we'll be having words," Rei snaps before she hangs up, and Usagi winces reflexively, because as angry as Rei sounds, there's fear there too. The same fear that had lurked under Makoto's calm reassurances and turned Ami's cheerful greeting into a cold estimation of her arrival time. 

The fear that that this is the start of something that will destroy their fragile peace. The fear that something worse than this is coming. The fear - that only Rei properly voiced, that Usagi doesn't want to think about - that something could have happened to Mamoru, again, and they had all missed it, this time without the excuse of being an ocean away to explain it. That she had missed it, even while she was standing next to him. 

That last one is Usagi's biggest fear, anyway. She would rather be locked in a room with a hundred Shitennou than have failed him in so horrible a way. 

Except, even though that's a fear, she's pretty sure she has nothing to worry about. She's pretty sure this was a choice, not a trap or a trick or an enemy scheme, and she both does and doesn't want to know how long they've been here. She wants to understand, and is a little afraid of the answer. 

_ Prince _, Nephrite had called Mamochan, and he hadn't seemed surprised by it at all. Like it was something he heard all the time, like it was perfectly normal for him to be called that, and okay, yes, he is a prince, technically, in the same way that she's a princess, technically, but no one ever really called them that, and never like it was something easy, something as much a part of them as being Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen.

_ Prince _, he had said, and turned to Mamoru for answers. Like he expected him to be someone with all the answers. 

Like he trusted him. 

And that's what really wigs her brain out. Because there is the part of her that is so happy for him, the part of her that knows Mamochan and Motoki have grown apart the same way she and Naru have. And that part of her is wildly happy that he could have friends like that again, friends who will be his friends first and hers second. It's the part of her that worries about everyone's happiness, and it’s relieved. 

But did those friends have to be negacreeps from the Dark Kingdom? That's what she's stuck on, all the rest of her that isn't happy and hopeful. Why did it have to be _ them _?

And why did they have to be hiding in his bedroom?!

Nope. Never mind. Just thinking about that makes her cheeks heat. Usagi bites the question back and finally looks over in Mamoru's direction. She wants to see how he'll react. 

"Rei-chan says she hopes you don't need a Moon Healing Escalation," she says, finally breaking the awkward silence that's built up between each and every call to one of her girls. 

And Mamoru visibly stills eyes widening, back straightening and drawing back as the words settle in his ears. His lips part, slack with surprise. It takes him a second to get any words out.

"I'm not - I - " And then he heaves a sigh. "If I shout refresh will everyone go home?"

And he looks tired. Tired and sad. There's a pang in her chest at the sight, but she's relieved, relieved and yet all the more confused, because that's one fear alleviated and a dozen questions still waiting to be answered. If he's not under anyone's control, why are the Dark Kingdom's Generals here? And why did he keep them from her? And why - 

"Oh I doubt it," A haughty voice says from the far corner of the room, silk smooth, and a shiver rolls down Usagi's spine. "I'm sure they all want to come and gawk at a blast from the past."

Gawk? _ Gawk?! _

Her nerves go up in flame along with her face, blood heating her cheeks. She whips around glare at Zoisite. "You're one to talk about _ gawking _, you bunch of perverts!"

That perfectly composed face cracks like cheap china, and that smooth voice turns shrill as he borderline screeches, "What did you just call me?!"

Over to the side, Mamoru demands, "Pervert?!" 

Both blondes ignore him. 

"What else do you call someone who just _ happens _ to show up right when an innocent maiden is changing?"

"What's innocent about poking your nose into someone's treasures? If anything, you're the _ real _ pervert, rummaging around in Endymion's room without a shirt -"

"I was changing! You could have at least looked away but no, you decided to _ gawk _at me -"

"Well, isn't someone conceited! I was just shocked at the audacity of someone to arrange an audience for something like that -"

"Something like what?" Minako asks, and the two freeze in place at the sound of her voice. Two sets of eyes widen, and Mamoru winces as Usagi's twintails whack him as she twists her head while Jadeite rolls his eyes as Zoisite's ponytail swings through him when he does the same, both of them staring at the space on Mamoru's balcony where Minako has so suddenly appeared. 

The Soldier of Love grins, not a speck of humor in her eyes. The gold star decorating the choker at her neck gleams in the light. The wind - at forty stories up, there's always wind - blows her hair around and ruffles the fabric of her skirts as she pushes open the sliding glass door to let herself in. 

Usagi feels pretty justified in just staring, actually. They're forty stories up. Where she did - _ how _ did she - 

She can hear Zoisite muttering the same questions under his breath. 

"That was a serious question, you know," Minako adds when the silence stretches on for just a moment too soon, Usagi and Zoisite, Mamoru and the rest of the Shitennou, all of them too busy staring to even think about answering questions.

The first one to snap out of it, it's with that oh so recent argument in mind that Usagi answers first, pointing a finger at Zoisite accusingly. 

"Something like _ Zoisite _hiding in Mamochan's room while I changed shirts! How's that for gawking?!"

"_ What?! _" Mamoru and Minako shout in chorus as Zoisite rears back in offense. 

"You're the one who decided to fondle a rock without your clothes on! As far as I'm concerned, _ you're _the shameless one -"

"Fondle?" Mamoru demands in a strangled voice. Usagi barely hears him, steam pouring from her ears at this slander. 

"I can't believe -"

"Alright, alright, alright, okay, you're both pretty! Trust me on this, okay?" And Minako sweeps into the room and between the two of them, throwing an arm over Usagi's shoulders and right through Zoisite's, fingers passing through him without a hint of surprise on her face. "I'm Guardian of Love and _ Beauty _ , so you can believe me when I say you're both plenty cute. Mamoru-san! Kunzite. Maybe one of _ you _ can give me the deets instead? Seems a little heated between these two, and poor Mars-chan hasn't even gotten here!"

Her arm is keeping Usagi squished to her and Usagi is pretty sure it's not a coincidence that her gloved forearm is covering her neck from every possible angle, that the position has her back twisted enough that her torso is pivoted. She hates that she knows how hard it would be to land a blow to the heart off at that angle. 

She hates that Minako barely had to think about it to have her covered. 

She really, really hates that she flinches when Kunzite's the one who decides to go ahead and answer. 

"To my best estimation, the princess was in the process of changing her clothing when she noticed our vessels. Her choice to investigate involved lifting my stone from the container, and for some reason, this triggered the manifestation of our spiritual forms." He says it with a matter of fact tone, like this is the kind of thing that could happen to anybody, any day. His expression is just as calm, and it makes the fact that he's faintly translucent even worse.

Usagi is pretty sure that she wouldn't be able to be nearly so calm about being a ghost. 

Minako just nods, her faint smile never fading, her eyes sparkling without softening. She quirks a brow. "And the gawking?"

"Would have been difficult to achieve, with the blinding flash of light that heralded the princess' transformation."

Again, matter of factly stated, not a second of hesitation. Information asked for and provided. 

Usagi's neck is starting to hurt a little bit, what with all the twisting about she's doing to look at Minako and then Kunzite and then back to Minako, watching the movement of their lips and the expressions - or lack thereof, in Kunzite's case, on their faces as they speak. She can't see Mamoru from this angle at all. She wonders what he thinks of all this. 

"You know, I can buy that. Guess it explains why you didn't go for the ol' stab and dab, huh? Can't kill a princess you can't see."

She says it in such a cheerful way that it takes a second for Usagi to even realize what the words mean. 

"They couldn't even if they wanted to, and they don't," and that's her Mamochan, finally entering the conversation, and Usagi wriggles herself loose enough that she can turn and look at him, because unlike the appalled shock of before, now he's all seriousness, as firm as if he were perched atop a streetlight, delivering a speech on the sanctity of love. "Do you really think I'd bring people like that into my home? That my judgement would be that off?"

The Dark Kingdom's Generals stir - she can see it from the corners of her eyes, the glimmer of their translucent movements as they draw closer to Mamoru, closing ranks around their prince - around their friend. She sees Kunzite's hand twitch, as if to reach out, and sees Jadeite's fall through Mamoru's shoulder when his own effort at comfort fails. She can't see Zoisite and Nephrite from this angle, but she's sure they're moving closer too. Sure they'd be reaching out to. Why wouldn't they?

They're his _ friends _. 

It's so obvious, what she's been ignoring about his whole time, and having that question posed so bluntly, having the ghosts she's been so set against, all because of her fears, to be the first to reach out to the man she loves_ , _ is the very last straw. _ Of course _ Mamoru wouldn't hide an enemy. Of course he wouldn't put them all in danger. He doesn't need to say! He shouldn't ever need to _ say that _.

She's made a mistake here. Not in telling her girls, but in not trusting Mamoru. And she's got to fix that now, before he has any more reason to fret. 

"No, we don't," she says firmly. Her fingers wrap around Minako's wrist and tug, creating enough space to slip away from her. She pretends not to notice that Minako's _ letting _ her get away. 

Mamoru turns to her, and this time she doesn't look away from his hurt, from his sadness. This time she looks into it, and she leans in. 

This time she takes his hand. 

"We don't think that. And I'm sorry we made you thinke we did. Even if I was scared - even if I _ am _ scared - that's no excuse. I know you! And you know me. I don't know why you didn't tell me about this sooner, but I know you had a good reason. I should have asked for it, instead of freaking out. I should have trusted you."

"Usako…" it's the only word that leaves his mouth for a long moment. Her eyes are on his, and his are on hers, and for that moment, neither of them is aware of the others around them. 

And then there's a knock on the front door, a heavy thud-thud-thud as if the person on the other side were torn between politeness and worry, and the height difference is the only reason they don't end up smacking their heads together when they end up jumping closer instead of jerking apart in surprise. 

The silence stretches on and the knocking starts again, more frantic this time, quickly punctured by "Mamoru-kun! Usagi-chan! Are you okay in there?" shouted in Makoto's clear voice.

Zoisite speaks up, asking dryly, "Not to interrupt this delightful moment even more, but does anyone with a corporeal body plans on getting that?

* * *

Rei is the last of them to arrive, as Usagi had so clearly planned. Ami is a bit impressed with her forethought, honestly - Rei wears her anger honestly and openly, the frustration on her face clear in the harsh lines of her furrowed brow and the stiffness of her shoulders, her usually burning gaze cold with suspicion. She glowers at the Dark Generals - or perhaps the Shitennou once more? - the instant she lays eyes on them, and crosses the room to place herself protectively before Usagi.

She, like Usagi, like Minako, is transformed. Unlike the other two, her transformation carries an air of menace. Of danger. The flame that would burn those foolish enough to test it. The blaze that would burn without end if given the chance. Minako moves like the certainty of death walks with her, without hesitation, without temper. Were Artemis with her, Ami is sure the Dark Generals would know that it was not only a pale _ horse _ that came with the fourth horseman. 

But Rei stalks through the room with all the threat of a bared sword, unapologetic, unafraid, her fierce scowl daring danger to strike. She doesn't have to utter a word to issue her threat. 

Had she been among the first to arrive, Ami is certain that Mamoru would no longer have an apartment to call his own. The tension had been obvious enough when she and Makoto arrived, granted entry by a Minako who had to failed to make so much as a single comment about the blue polka-dot blouse Ami sported, or to snatch at the bag whose straps were oh-so carefully balanced in the crook of Makoto's elbow, but it had been balanced. 

Now, it is stifling, an omnipresent pressure weighing on them - the four Shitennou, translucent as colored glass, holding fast to expressions nearly as blank - Usagi and Mamoru, the former visibly fretting, teeth nibbling at her lower lip, the latter bearing a face of clear resignation - and the four of them. A dangerously still Minako and a seething Rei, barely balanced by a cautiously curious Makoto -

And herself, of course. She would be lying to say she isn't somewhat nervous, standing face to face before a quartet of enemies who should have, by all reasonable measures, been long dead. But she is not angry, and though she has her suspicions, though she feels cautious, there is no surprise. In a way, she has expected this all along.

It's a strange thing, to realize consciously what her subconscious must have so long ago deduced. If the four of them could return - more than once - by Usagi's will, who was to say the Shitennou wouldn't return by their prince's will? 

Looked at in that light, it's only natural that they've come face to face with these former enemies. Looked at in that light, it's only reasonable that they've turned up here, in Mamoru's care. 

The tension is unbearable, but Ami knows it will be worse if she allows it to build to eruption. Better to puncture the bubble now, that deal with the aftermath.

And so she steps forward, shoulders taut under the gaze of everyone in the room, friend and foe. 

"May we have a moment to speak in private?" She asks, looking from one general to the next, her gaze resting on them equally. 

Nephrite frowns, his dark brows furrowing. "Isn't it our fate you're about to talk about? Why shouldn't we be here for that?"

A fair question, and she hesitates over it for a moment too long. Rei answers first, tossing a loose strand of dark hair over her shoulder and back into place. 

"Because we aren't interested in or concerned about hearing from the men who tried to kill us," she says, and even after years of friendship it's hard for Ami not to flinch when she speaks in that cold tone of voice, matter of fact and firm, so angry that she's looped back around to calm. "Mamoru-san. We'd like to speak to you without an audience."

The Shitennou bristle at her tone - or rather, two of them do, and Ami isn't quite able to stifle a wince when Zoisite stomps an intangible foot through the floor and stomps forward. 

"So the lot of you can gather around and tear into him without anyone there on his side? That isn't fair -" he starts, and Ami sees Usagi go stiff at Mamoru's side, can predict what Rei will say next, and no. Just no. 

This time she doesn't hesitate to speak. "No one is going to be 'tearing into' anyone. This is a practical request. There are ten people in this room, and a conversation featuring all of us isn't going to be a conversation, but a spectacle. We won't prevent Mamoru-kun from summoning you again."

And for a moment, she's certain that that isn't enough. That that can't be enough, that the endless arguing is going to start now, because Zoisite's mouth is tight and Nephrite's frown hasn't lightened and Minako has shifted in her placement beside Usagi, one leg slightly forward. Braced. 

But then Jadeite speaks up. And he says, very simply, "Alright."

It's so unexpected, that everyone stares. Ami repeats, "Alright?" in disbelief, as taken aback as the rest. 

The man in the Dark Kingdom's uniform only nods, once, firm. He looks at her, and she can see the walls through him. "Alright. If you need to speak without us, then do it. Mars-san isn't wrong, we don't have any special right to be heard."

Rei looks about as stunned as anyone else in that moment, her expression softening with surprise. She doesn't say a word. 

Nephrite does. 

"Don't we?" He challenges, facing not the five of them, but Jadeite. There's a note of something - hurt, Ami thinks - in his voice as he faces his companion, and the expression on his face isn't quite anger, but something worse, something too complicated for her to begin to dissect. 

Jadeite doesn't bother to. He looks up - has to, with the height difference between them, as great as the difference between Ami herself and Makoto - and says only, "No."

He turns to Mamoru then, and bows, too low to be anything less than a display of pure reverence, the sort of thing she'd expect in a period film, or the dramatic climax of one Makoto's favorite romantic dramas. 

"My prince," he says, and his voice is softer than it had been when he spoke to Nephrite and Zoisite. His arms are firmly at his sides. "Sorry for causing you trouble."

And then Jadeite vanishes, fading from vision before Mamoru can do anything but look at him, Usagi gripping one of his hands - or he gripping one of hers. Nephrite, Zoisite, and Kunzite remain, and Ami is ashamed to find herself thinking for a moment that there is nothing new about _ that _. 

"It will be no more than an hour," Mamoru says, quiet. Speaking for the room to hear, but seeming to focus only on those three. "I'll answer their questions, and bring you back out before you know it."

Zoisite snorts, but Kunzite finally speaks, ice colored eyes focused only on his prince. "We will be waiting."

It's an order, directly stated or not, and when he fades into nothingness, the other two follow suit. Mamoru's free hand, balled into a loose fist, clenches for a moment, and then he turns from them all, working his hand free of Usagi with a quiet, "Usako." 

There's a box on the coffee table, clear glass with golden hinges and detail, an indented pillow resting inside. Mamoru lifts it with his open hand, and with the other, gently places four cut stones upon the pillow. 

Ami has never taken much of an interest in precious stones, but anyone could gather that that what she's seeing are shards of the minerals jadeite, nephrite, zoisite, and kunzite, safely secured in a jewelry box. 

There's something unsettling about it, that those four men could be concealed in something so small, so delicate. 

But there isn't time to dwell on it. The absence of the Shitennou brings with it an almost immediate release of tension, and all at once, her fellow Senshi are speaking. As predicted, the cacophony that follows is nothing nearly so useful as a genuine conversation. 

"I can't believe that was really them. They looked so - different from what I expected." Makoto. That was right - for a moment Ami can hardly believe she'd forgotten, but that's right. Makoto hadn't joined them until after both Jadeite and Nephrite had fallen. 

"Of course it was them. They look like they did back then - and what was Jadeite talking about, saying I wasn't wrong? Of course I'm right!" Why is Ami not surprised that Rei isn't pleased with being agreed with?"

"_ Maybe _you weren't right, and you were just rude! Rei-chan, did you have to say it like tha-" Ah Usagi. Ami resists the urge to shake her head. She'll never get anything out of her like that.

"Yes." Exhibit A. 

"It _ was _ rude," Makoto puts in, stepping closer. They're forming less of a wall now, and more of a semicircle, curving around a central point. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't a little right anyway. I'm a little more comfortable to be talking about this without them " 

"Mako-chan! You too?!"

"Well - of course! I've never met two of them, and the other two, well, they were the first people to ever try and kill me. Of course it's more comfortable when they're not here and - wait. Usagi! You were the one who called _ me _?" 

Now, that is a fair point. She sees Rei register that as well, lips pursing as she considers Usagi. Minako, uncharacteristically silent thus far, watches on as well. And Usagi's own mouth gapes cartoonishly wide as she registers the accusation and that she's the center of all of their attention.

They're going to be busy for a moment, Ami thinks. Just as well - if they're willing to distract each other, then she's free to focus on the more pertinent matters. 

"Mamoru-kun," she begins, waiting patiently for him to focus on her. "I want to apologize. While I do think we can be more productive with a smaller group, it was rude of me to ask in front of your company. I hope that that doesn't make trouble for you."

Some of the resignation leaves his face at her words. He stares at he for a moment, long enough that she shifts under his gaze and worried that she's said something wrong. 

"I - hope I didn't presume -"

"No, no," Mamoru interrupts quickly. "You didn't. I just - you're apologizing to me. Over them?"

His eyes flick to the jewelry box so carefully position away from the edges of the coffee table. She wonders if it's conscious choice or if he's subconsciously needing to confirm that they're there. 

"They're your guests," she says simply. "I would be lying if I said I was perfectly comfortable to be around them but.. Well, it's your home, Mamoru-kun. Who stays in it is your decision, not mine. And after seeing what Usagi-chan meant about ghosts? It's even more your decision. They seem relatively harmless, and they are your guardians."

Again, he stares at her, and again, she feels uncomfortable, pinned by his gaze. She shifts on her feet, one of her arms lifting to the other, fingers rubbing over the wrinkled skin of her elbow.

But she doesn't apologize this time - though, there's a moment where she fears that he didn't know, that she's shared information he didn't yet have, information that she's inadvertently kept from him. 

When he finally speaks though, it isn't to express his shock or offense, but to ask, "How long have you known?" 

She contemplates her answer, but not because she isn't sure - the exact number of years comes to mind immediately, and with a bit of thought she could easily assess the exact number of months well. It's a moment to think of how she wants to answer, and to determine if she's reading too deeply into the question itself. 

Eventually, she offers, "Several years now. The Moon Kingdom's records… they did not survive intact, but they did survive. I learned many things, attempting to transcribe what was left."

Mamoru nods, slowly. Makoto and Rei and Usagi are arguing in circles behind them - she focuses on his expression, rather than the words they're throwing about. 

They've known each other for years. It might be presumptuous, but she considers him a close friend. They've talked about research before, research and study and good books and ambitions. A friendship that's their own, rather than based on their mutual connections to Usagi. So she continues without him having to ask, having an idea of his concern. 

"I was searching for data that could help me understand our biology - but at the time, my skill with the language left much to be desired. I ended up with an abundance of unrelated information, and whenever I ran into a roadblock in my research, I would focus on something else I'd found, until my mind cleared. During one such diversion, I found a report, heavily encrypted, and of course, damaged as a result. What I could understand suggested that Prince Endymion had been under the protection of four guardians, just as Serenity was. I was curious, after that. When one avenue dried, I would return to the subject for a break."

He frowns again - but the expression is lighter, more puzzlement than anything else. She hadn't meant her explanation to alter the subject, but she can see that she's managed that. 

"If it started because you wanted to understand our biology, why not use the materials in Luna and Artemis' base? The Moon Kingdom was advanced, but there were no humans there for them to study. Wouldn't you have a better chance of understanding our biology using what research we already have, and combining it with what we know now?"

"No," this, at least, she can answer easily, promptly. "Humans don't live for a thousand years, Mamoru-kun, and they don't have children unaltered by the passage of time."

Understanding dawns. "You looked into this because of Chibiusa."

"I did. I didn't share it with you because even though it's been years, I still haven't found an explanation that doesn't rely on 'it's magic' as both an excuse and an explanation." There's no hiding the frustration in her voice, irrational as it is. If the riddle could be solved with a few years of spare research time, the question of 'why did that happen' wouldn't still be unanswered in the distant future. But she'd hoped. 

A quick shake of the head, as if to shake loose the thought, before Ami continues, "What use is that? I didn't want to burden you and Usagi with the fact that I couldn't find anything. It was the same with your guardians. The evidence apparent suggested that they had chosen another path, and more to the point, that they were long deceased. I didn't want to... well, rub your face in their absence, for lack of better phrasing."

And ultimately, she hadn't wanted to chance hurting Mamoru or turning her friends' worlds upside down, and hadn't been confident in her ability to navigate the topic without doing exactly that. It's been so much easier to let the topic go unacknowledged than to contemplate all the ways bringing it up could go wrong. 

She can't do that anymore - her presumptions were incorrect. The Shitennou are not gone for good, they are here in this room, and she knows that if she had shared her discovery sooner, they might not be in the spot that they're in now. 

Rei might still dislike them, Usagi might have still been afraid, but at least there would have been no confusion as to why _ Mamoru _ was involved. 

"I can't blame you for that," Mamoru says, as if in response to her thoughts. Ami's eyes widen in surprise - she looks at him with disbelief, but Mamoru only smiles, lopsided. "I didn't tell any of you that they were here with me. I'd have to be a pretty big hypocrite to be mad that you didn't tell me you knew who they were, don't you think?"

She hadn't considered that at all, and her face says that plainly. "I… suppose I do. Shall we agree that we both should have been more open?'

"We shall," he nods, before looking over her head at the arguing trio. "And now… how do we break it to the rest of them?"

Oh. Yes. 

There _ is _the other part of all this. Ami turns, considering her fellow Senshi in full…

Rei, Makoto, and Usagi are still in a semi circle surrounding each other. They're still arguing. This is expected - 

Mostly. 

Rei has both hands on her hips as she faces Usagi and Makoto, a frustrated scowl on her face - at some point, her transformation had dropped, but her presence hasn't been diminished at all. "I'm not saying that Mamoru-kun is suspicious! I'm saying that the situation is suspicious, and you have to admit that, Usagi!" 

"I don't have to admit anything because there's nothing suspicious! So Mamochan made friends with the Dark Kingdom's weird generals, that's not anymore suspicious than you getting tea with the Ayakashi sisters every month!" 

It's a good argument Usagi's making, Ami has to admit that, though it has one very obvious flaw -

"You _ purified _ the Ayakashi sisters! That alone makes it completely different -" 

That flaw, to be exact. Trust Rei to pick it out in an instant, and trust the two of them to still be arguing. All that's missing is Makoto to roll her eyes with them -

"You guys, just calm down! There's no reason you should be taking this personally -"

And of course, Minako to urge on the argument for her own -

Wait.

Ami and Mamoru share a glance, realization striking them in the same moment. Where _ is _ Minako in all this? The apartment isn't that large, and the situation is too tense for her to have just walked away from all this -

A sharp chime echoes through the room, cutting through the argument and the search at the same time. They turn, all of them at once, to the kitchen. 

Minako stands there, a glass in one hand and a fork in the other, the source of the noise. Her expression is as stern and serious as Ami has ever seen it. 

"Mamoru promised an hour, and we've wasted fifteen minutes of it. Can we get it together now?"

Silence from the group of them is the answer, and Minako seems to accept that in stride, placing glass and fork alike on the counter and pointedly taking a seat on the couch. 

"All of you, take a seat. Rei-chan, Usagi-chan, take a deep breath, calm down, and follow Mamoru-kun and Ami-chan's example. There's no point in shouting at each other - this isn't a trip to the beach we're figuring out, it's a threat evaluation, and we all need to be on the same page. So I'm asking again - _ can we get it together? _"

Ami sits. The others do too. For the first time, she realizes that Minako's earlier facade wasn't just her usual subterfuge, her usual effort to be underestimated and overlooked. It was to hide her worries from _ them _ too. She sees the way Minako's hands tremble in her lap, the tightness around her mouth, and even she can read the fear there. 

The second they're all in place, Minako seems to breathe again. The hands in her lap tighten into fists so that the trembling stops - pure will, rather than genuine calm, Ami suspects - and she looks up at them, a determined glint in her eyes. 

"Wonderful. Mamoru-kun, this is your home, they're your guests. Will you answer our questions about them?"

Mamoru sits up from his place on the couch, back straight, Usagi's hand in his once more. His mouth tightens, brief, and for a moment Ami thinks he may refuse. Minako can be presumptuous at the best of times, an aspect of her personality that Ami herself hasn't always managed to mesh with, and she can't imagine that Mamoru likes having command seized in his own home. 

But he doesn't say a word about that when he opens his mouth. "I'm willing to answer your questions, but if it's something that's been shared in confidence, I won't betray that."

"And I won't ask you too," Minako says, and Ami doesn't believe her. She doesn't blame her for that either.

She doesn't blame anyone here, except herself, a little, and even she can acknowledge that that's irrational. 

But no one calls Minako out on the obvious lie, and with that ground rule established, she asks the first question. 

"What's the extent of their abilities? I couldn't touch them, but if they wanted to, could they touch us? How did they convince you that they weren't a threat?"

Those are good questions, actually. Well phrased, too - Ami had been prepared for something blunt and callous, a question born of all that tension and their limited time window, but there's nothing crude or uncaring about what's been asked - it's practical concerns mixed with personal ones, and the answers are ones they genuinely need. 

Usagi realizes it too - Ami can see the grip she has on Mamoru's hand relax - and so do Rei and Makoto, who nod with satisfactory and curiosity respectively. And so does Mamoru, who closes his eyes for a brief second before speaking.

"Their abilities are limited to basic senses - they can see, hear, and speak, as long as they've been drawn out of their namesake stones. They can't travel far from the stones, and the only times that they've appeared without me calling out to them are today, and when that shard of Nehellenia's mirror was stuck in my eye. They can't carry the stones off themselves, so it didn't take much to convince me that they weren't a physical threat -"

"Not a physical threat, but what about a spiritual one?" Rei interrupts, and there's that frustration creeping back into her voice. 

It isn't Usagi who counters this time, but Mamoru himself, his voice sharp as he snaps, "Do you really think I would have let them stay in my home if they were _ any _ kind of threat to you all? I'm not that careless -"

"We are not the ones Zoisite stabbed," Rei snaps back, and Mamoru's mouth shuts with an audible clack as he stares at her. 

The puzzle pieces of her behavior suddenly clatter into place, and Ami realizes that this is the second time that she's miscalculated as Rei continues, "I know you're not going to do anything to put us at risk. I _ don't _ know that you're going to be as careful with yourself. The last time we saw Zoisite, he _ stabbed you _and kidnapped you into the Dark Kingdom. Forgive me if I think it's worrisome that you don't even seem to mind that!"

"You're worried about me," Mamoru says, and for a moment Ami worries that Rei is going to have an aneurysm out of sheer frustration. The throbbing in her forehead cannot possibly be healthy. 

But instead of erupting, Rei just presses her hands together and leans into them, her index fingers pressed into her face. She takes a deep breath. 

"I'm only getting more worried about you by the moment," she says. "When I said they tried to kill us, I meant _ all _ of us. So Minako asked the right question. What did they say - especially Zoisite - for you to overlook that?"

"He apologized, for one thing," Mamoru says, but the anger has gone out of his voice. If anything, he looks a little sheepish now, the surprise not entirely gone from his face. "I haven't forgotten what he did, but I never forgot what it was like to be in Beryl's power either. Maybe I could have held it against him, but I didn't want to."

In Beryl's power. An excellent choice of words - knowing what he's leading up to, the revelation that he's planning, Ami can't help but appreciate Mamoru's artful manner. 

They all remember what it had been like, fighting Mamoru, not wanting to hurt him but not wanting to _ be _hurt either. And for years they've fought youma that were made from innocent civilians, whether they were strangers off the streets or their own friends - their own families. Creating a link between those experiences and the Shitennou is an opportunity to build empathy without throwing out a clumsy parallel between their circumstances. 

And she can see it working - Usagi and Makoto are looking sympathetic already, and the set of Rei's jaw softening slightly. 

Only Minako is at least visually unaffected. She stares Mamoru down, having watched the byplay between he and Rei without a word of protest. 

"If they usually need you to call them out, what changed today?" 

"Usako, I think," Mamoru answers, and it's clear that he's been thinking about this. "She was in the room, and she picked up the stones - you did, didn't you?" 

This is directed at Usagi, who sheepishly nods. "I wanted to take a closer look! I didn't know you collected rocks, or, the rock shapes of our enemies, I guess? Um, rocks sounds a lot less weird, I'll stick to that, okay? But I picked one up - the pretty red one - and then there were suddenly guys, and I maybe overreacted."

"More like underreacted," Rei snorts, "I don't see how you can think you overreacted if you didn't even throw one of them."

"Tell that to the scorch mark on Mamochan's wall," Usagi huffs, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms. The wings attached to the back of her fuku bend and fold as she does so - it doesn't look comfortable at all. "I don't know what I did to make them come out though, unless just touching was enough?"

"...it could have been. Actually - it might have been. We're all magic, for lack of better phrasing, and so are they. You touching them could have triggered the response," Mamoru says, his voice one of dawning realizations. "For obvious reasons, I've never let anyone handle them -"

"But Usagi-chan wasn't transformed yet, right?" Makoto asks, her lips pursed as she considers the issue. "I thought we didn't _ have _our abilities when we weren't transformed. So can they just tell who's magical just by being touched?"

It's an excellent question and hypothesis, but Ami, watching Usagi, has the beginnings of another idea. 

"What if it wasn't her magic that they sensed, but the Ginzuishou?"

Five faces turn to her and five sets of eyes blink in surprise. 

"My crystal?" Usagi asks, hand coming up to cover the broach at the center of her chest. 

The action only increases Ami's certainty. "Yes. It's one of the most powerful forces in the known galaxy, and it's still there, pressed into your compact, when you aren't transformed. Maybe they didn't sense _ you _ at all, but felt the power of the crystal through you."

"That makes sense," Makoto agrees, "But does the why really matter? They're ghosts, and they can't hurt us. If all we have to do to avoid being around them is keep from touching them, then we've got an easy solution. Problem solved!"

"Or is it?" Minako counters, instant. "We don't know whether it was Usagi's touch or feeling the Ginzuishou that brought them out, and we only have guesses to go on. We need to know what happened before we just decide that the problem is solved."

"Especially when we still don't know how we got to this point," Rei agrees. She leans forward, elbows in her knees as she focuses on Mamoru. "If they really were under Beryl's control, then I can understand wanting to forgive them. But why bring them here in the first place? Why keep it a secret for so long?"

And everyone's attention swings back to Mamoru. Ami is reminded of the swiveling heads of tennis fans, twisting and turning to keep track of the action, and suppresses the inappropriate urge to laugh. 

"I brought them here because they're - well, because they saved my life," Mamoru admits, and Ami frowns faintly, because she noticed that hesitation, and knows this isn't what he was initially going to share. His hand, still gripping Usagi's, tightens. "I survived at D-Point because of them."

"Wait, wait, if they can't act without your help, then how did they manage to do that?" Makoto is the one interrupting, leaning forward now too. Her expression is rapt, alright with curiosity in contrast to Rei's doubt and Minako's blank neutrality. 

"Well for one thing, having four good sized rocks in your breast pocket is great for deflecting a sword to the heart," Mamoru says dryly, his lips quirked up in a faint smile. He continues, "For another, they... called out to me and told me what needed to be done to defeat Metallica. I was able to help Usako because they told me what to do."

They all sit up a little straighter at that, Ami included. By that point they had no longer been around to help - they had been too dead to help - so it's as much galling as it is gratifying to hear that their enemies had found the strength to help. 

"They turned on Metalia, all the way back at D-Point?" Makoto shakes her head, a disbelieving smile on her face. "Even for a bunch of dead guys, that takes guts."

"If they were under Beryl's control when they fought us, it _ could _ make sense that dying would undo some of that," Rei agrees, her reluctance painted on her face. 

"That means the _ second _they were themselves, they helped Mamochan! So of course he helped them too!" Usagi adds, pumping her fists up in excitement. Her twintails bounce as she moves. "They might have been creeps, jerks, and losers, but they changed! Just like the Ayakashi Sisters!"

"You called us because they freaked you out _ less than an hour ago _ ," Rei snaps back, "So quit throwing Koan and her sisters in my face. And Mamoru-kun, you haven't said why you kept it a secret from us, and since she won't quit pointing it out, we _ did _ help the Ayakashi Sisters when they wanted out of the Black Moon Clan. If the Generals were on our side, why not just say so?"

Even Usagi pauses at that. "That's a good point. Why did you keep it a secret from us?"

Mamoru exhales, slow, and Ami can see him planning words again, no doubt trying to predict the response to every option he can generate. She's thinking that maybe she should return to the conversation, but also knows that she won't be able to hide anything at all from the others and that she might just make everything worse. 

And then Minako leans back in her seat and says, with an air of annoyance, "Because they were Prince Endymion's guardians, and that's the real reason he took up with them."

Every eye snaps to her in an instant. 

You could have heard a pin drop, in that moment. Ami is certain. If she could record this moment, she would, if only because she knows that her focus on Minako - less of a choice and more of a natural reaction, to fixate on the cause of chaos - means that she's missing seeing the full spectrum of human emotion play out across the faces of her remaining friends. 

But she can't help it. She can't take her eyes off Minako, off the look of quiet, resigned satisfaction on her face when Mamoru doesn't deny anything, the carefully clenched fist resting on her thigh, the white shine of bone through her knuckles where her free hand is buried in her hair. She stares at her, as if looking will tell her when this information made its way into her leader's hands, and if it was before or after she herself knew. 

(Before, is her guess. She has no proof, but Minako has always known more about the past than any of them, has always kept tight-lipped and close-mouthed about anything and everything to do with that time and those memories.

She had known Usagi was their princess long before any of them did. What else does she know?)

"Your _ guardians _?!" Rei demands in disbelief, Usagi in shock, and Makoto in confusion. 

Minako speaks over their shock as if she doesn't hear a word of it. It's obvious that this is where she's been driving the conversation all along. 

"I really don't have a voice in if you want to be friends with them and have them in your place, Mamoru-kun. It's your choice, your life, and your home, so you get to decide that. But we're supposed to be your friends. We're supposed to be on the same team. Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

Even with the noise everyone else is making, Ami still hears when Mamoru draws a deep breath, slow, shaking. Her heart aches in sympathy. This is a secret he's kept from them for three and a half years. Facing their inquiry - that was one of thing, and she thought, and still thinks, that it's justified for them to want answers after the secrets. But to have that decision picked apart and positioned as a matter of trust…

It's harsh. In it's own way, it's cruel. 

She can't blame him for needing a moment. 

"That isn't fair, Minako-chan," she says quietly, firmly. She waits until Minako's bright blue eyes meet her own. "Isn't there a reason that you didn't tell us what you knew? Isn't it a reason based entirely on your feelings, and your experiences, not about the rest of us at all, even though you knew it wasn't rational?"

She draws in her own deep, deep breath. Preparing herself. 

"At least, that's why I didn't say anything when _ I _ found out."

In the midst of the pandemonium that ensues, they never do get that explanation. The focus is on her and Minako after that, and Ami throws herself on the sword of everyone's interest and feelings of not-quite-mock betrayal. The story of how she came to acquire her knowledge is shared, in more detail than what she had offered Mamoru earlier, and between the length of it and the questions that follow, their hour is eaten up. 

Minako doesn't press again and Mamoru doesn't offer. When Ami does chance a glance away from her audience of three to look at the two of them, it's to see matching pensive expressions on their faces. 

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Zoisite snaps. His arms are thrown into the air, his hands tangled in his hair as he paces the blank floor of their void. 

It's an uncharacteristic display of frustration for him, an unchanneled burst of sheer emotion with no plan to direct it at. Not to mention the mess he's making of his hair, always so carefully minded even here, where the length and cut depended entirely on who was looking and when they were doing it. 

Were this another time and place, Kunzite would be concerned. Indeed, for a moment his form - lanky and long-limbed like one of the savannah's cats, thin-shouldered and still round-cheeked - flickers to the shape of the boy who would have acted on that concern. But the illusion lasts only a moment, before his shape has cast itself to another time, another him, and the remnants of that Kunzite who did not yet know Zoisite well enough to understand that he could not be reasoned with like this are gone. 

He says nothing, standing still as a sentinel and letting Zoisite speak his mind. 

"They are discussing _ our _fate! Our lives! We should be out there making our voices heard, not staring at these blank walls like nothing ever happened!"

"If you think about it," Nephrite drawls from his place on the floor amidst the mist, looking up at the equally empty 'ceiling' , "They aren't even walls. They're just a projection crafted from minds too desperate for stimulation to accept that there really is nothing out there."

"Well, that's a depressing thought," Jadeite pipes up, and when Kunzite scans the room, he spots him in a corner, settled against an old-fashioned wooden bar that had not been there a moment ago. "Anyway, come have a drink, it will cheer you right up. You too Zoi, you need something to slow your roll."

The sound that escapes Zoisite is reminiscent of stone snapping or nails on a chalkboard. Unsettling, incredibly unhappy, and with no effect on Jadeite's benevolent exterior at all.

For a moment, Kunzite's envy over that fact nearly outweighs his pity. And then Zoisite draws a deep breath, filling his lungs -

"_ This isn't the time for your fake alcohol! _"

And the moment passes. 

"Speak for yourself," Nephrite grumbles. He's stretched an arm out, as if it could possibly reach the corner bar from where he sprawls, and his Dark Kingdom uniform bleeds into stonewashed jeans and a wrinkled pink shirt. "I could use some fake alcohol right about now. Did you see the way the princess looked at me? Thought _ she _was the one with the fire for a second there."

The knuckles of the hand in Zoisite's hair visibly whiten, a sign of his building frustration. 

"Oh yeah, I saw it," Jadeite cuts in. His smile is beatific. "Did I ever thank you guys for being so much worse than me? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure at least one of them will have it out for me, but there's not a chance I'll be first in line at the guillotine."

"There isn't going to be a guillotine," Kunzite says when Zoisite and Nephrite say nothing, too busy staring at the blond in disbelief. His tone, while far from glacial, could nonetheless never be mistaken as either warm or amused. "And that isn't something you should be thanking us for."

"Mm, too far under the belt?" Jadeite asks, and then continues without waiting for an answer, "Yeah, it was a little mean. Alright, never mind all that Zoi, let's try something positive. Mamoru said it'd just be an hour, yeah? We can entertain ourselves for an hour."

"Entertain ourselves with _ what _ exactly?" Zoisite demands snidely, "There's nothing to see but the three of you and these blank walls."

"Easy! Just do what I do - pretend we're in a movie theater, and any second the lights are going to dim for the trailers. All you need to do is go ahead and close your eyes -"

"Don't," Nephrite says suddenly, and Kunzite looks to the empty heavens for patience. As if that could stop this.

"Oh wait! We don't have eyes!" 

Zoisite muffles his face in his arms and screams his frustration. "You! You are the one I loathe the most!"

It's going to be a _ long _ hour.

* * *

"So does anyone have anything else to add?" Makoto asks, when more than a minute has passed without any new outbursts, comments, or reluctant suggestions being offered. Looking around the table, she can see that everyone has their processing faces on, from Rei's pinched frown to Usagi's pouting, and honestly, she feels the same. 

It's been a long evening. 

A _ weird _evening, even, and one would have thought she was used to that by now, but apparently, one could be wrong. Maybe it's because the weirdness isn't coming from strange monsters and strangers enemies, but secrets that she'd never thought her friends would have. Maybe it's because the conversation being over means jumping into a conversation with a group of enemies she'd rather never see again. 

So she really is hoping that the answer is going to be a 'no Mako-chan, that's everything, we can wrap this all up!'. 

But it's not.

"Just one thing," Mamoru says, raising his hand a little and shaking it as if this were school and he was throwing himself at the mercy of a cruel teacher. "Now that everything's out in the open, I owe you all an apology - and I'd like to make a request, after, if you'll consider it."

"Of course we'll consider it," Minako says, and Makoto isn't surprised that she's willing to be gracious about it. Minako _ considers _ everything. Especially when she looks like she isn't. 

It doesn't mean she'll agree and Mamoru has to know that. To his credit though, all he does is nod his acceptance. 

"I should have told you about the Shitennou years ago," he begins, looking around the room at all of them before focusing on Usagi. "Especially you, Usako."

"You should have," Rei agrees instantly. Her arms are crossed. It seems less likely that she'll burn the apartment down, but just as likely that a certain jewelry box may end up on fire or mysteriously missing. Makoto is impressed that Mamoru doesn't just reach for the box right then and there. His trust in Rei's self control seems a lot higher than it should be. 

Usagi shakes her head a little, but her hand is squeezing Mamoru's tight. "I think I understand. I don't - it was a shock, but I understand it."

Well, at least someone does, is the immediate and uncharitable thought. It isn't entirely true. Makoto thinks she might understand what was going through his head, but she doesn't _ agree _. 

"That doesn't mean I should have done it," Mamoru says, and the fact that he's agreeing with her thoughts has Makoto worried that she might have said something out loud. A second later, when he continues, she realizes how silly a thought that is. 

"When they saved my life at D Point, I was in shock. I didn't know what to do, or how to react, and there wasn't any _ time _to do anything about it. And after, they were just rocks. It was weeks after that they appeared to me, and I'd been having dreams -"

"The ones Neo King Endymion sent you?" Minako asks, her eyes sharp. Obviously she's remembered that he wasn't exactly upfront about those either. 

The day he'd told Usagi he needed space had been hard. The fact that they he'd almost let dreams be the reason for her broken heart had been nearly impossible for them to forgive at the time. 

(The fact that he didn't, is why they did.)

But Mamoru shakes his head. "Not those. These were about - the past. About Endymion, mostly, before Serenity ever came into the picture. And in all of them, the four of them were there. No matter how young I was, at least one of them was always there. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who they were to me, exactly, and what happened. And I was afraid that if I told you all about them, you would want to destroy them."

"You're almost certainly right," Ami says then, as if she were mentally calculating the odds. Given the proximity to their defeat, and the nature of the attacks we were facing, that may have well been our course of action. If would have been the logical thing to do.

"But maybe we wouldn't have." Rei points out, and she scowls at their disbelieving stares. "I'm pointing out the possibilities. We probably would have fried them - but maybe we'd have wanted to interrogate them first, and be sure we had every bit of information."

Minako shrugs, the gesture delicate, light reflecting off her orange-tinted shoulder guards. "We might have destroyed them after, though."

Mamoru winces. "Exactly what I was afraid of. But either way, Rei-chan's right. I should have given you the chance, at some point, anyway, because you're my friends, and I trust you, and I'm sorry that I didn't live up to that."

"Just remember that the next time you want to keep some great earthshaking secret from us," Rei says (orders, maybe?) firmly, and honestly, that's all Makoto would ask too. 

"I forgive you," she says, and the sentiment is echoed by the rest of them, Mamoru's tense shoulders slackening for a second. 

But just a second. 

"Thank you. And... about that request."

He closes his eyes. Makoto is struck, suddenly, with the thought that this is going to be worse, somehow, than anything else said this far. 

"My request is that the Shitennou be able to come with us to the beach."

You could have heard a toothpick drop in the silence that falls after this request. Makoto is aware of herself staring, sure the look on her face is better suited to a deer in the headlights, but it's like she can't take control. The sheer shock is too much and the worst part is that she knows she's the one being unreasonable. Knows that Mamoru is perfectly in the right to want his friends - as he and Usagi had both confirmed, repeatedly - to come with them on a day for relaxation. 

If he had suggested bringing Motoki, she knows for a fact she wouldn't have hesitated this long. 

That's the part that makes her feel a little bad. The part where she wants to support her friend and make sure he's as happy as she is about their trip, but not when it means spending time with them. 

That's pretty selfish, right?

"You don't think it will be weird to be talking to a bunch of rocks in public?" Rei says first, as the rest of them are - or at least, as Makoto is - gathering their thoughts. It's a good argument, really, one that doesn't focus on her obvious misgivings. 

But Mamoru just shakes his head. 

"No one's ever seen any of the strange things we do, and as far as Ami and I have been able to tell, it's because they can't. We can test it - I'd be happy to test it, honestly - but I think anyone looking our way would just see a group of guys. And if it's optics we're worried about, you have to admit a mixed group will be a lot less noticeable than any group of five girls and one guy could be." he concludes dryly.

He's looking at them all, and the expression on his face is first and foremost hopeful. 

And again, it's not an unreasonable request. And maybe it's not even a bad idea, all of them together in a public place, where any rock shattering would have witnesses. 

(It's not that she thinks anyone would do that, it's just that she's seen Minako with a sword and she can't help but think that the site would be less likely to manifest if they all got to know each other.)

She opens her mouth to speak, preparing to admit as much, but Ami beats her to it. 

"A low-stakes environment like a trip to the beach would be an excellent opportunity to assess the synergy of our two groups."

She sounds about as reluctant to say it as Makoto is to agree with it, and in a way, it's good to have a sign that Ami isn't as totally sure of herself about all this as she's seemed. Minako and Rei are against the whole thing, and Usagi is right there with Mamoru, all for it now - and it feels better, knowing there's someone else maybe half as uncertain about this as she is. 

It makes it easier to be a good friend, because Mamoru's face has softened with relief at Ami's words. 

"It can't really hurt," she points out, looking at Rei and Minako's skeptical faces. "They're a handful of rocks and we're a team of Senshi. Mamoru-kun is right, and it's not like we know another group of guys who just so happens to know who we are. The worst that can happen is someone gets a paper cut... A rock cut? You know what I mean. I think they should come too."

"Yeah!" Usagi says, jumping in, "The more the merrier. What's a better way to get to know someone than a beach party?"

"I don't know, writing a letter?" Rei says huffily, crossing her arms. "I'm not saying they're a threat - we already agreed they aren't! I'm just saying that there's a difference between being okay with the idea of someone's existence and wanting them to see you in a bathing suit."

When she put it like that - from the corner of her eyes, Makoto can see Ami turning red, her cheeks bright enough to rival a traffic signal. She doesn't blame her at all. She's thinking about her swimsuit, a bikini she had picked up at the start of summer and has barely found time to use. She's thinking about wearing that bikini around the Dark Kingdom's generals - er, around Mamoru's guardians -

And she just can't do it. The image does not compute. Her own cheeks threaten to flush -

"How's that any different from all the random guys who were already going to see us in swimsuits?" Minako asks innocently, and when they all look to her she rolls her eyes. "I'm not saying I like the idea but - it has merit. And we're not going to a private beach, so a few more guys maybe looking at us shouldn't make the decision. Besides - I could be wrong, but I'm getting the feeling that no Shitennou means no Mamoru, right?"

"Right," Mamoru confirms as Usagi squawks in displeased shock. He looks sheepish as he brushes a hand over his head, pushing back his hair. "I'm not trying to issue an ultimatum here - I just don't think I'd be able to enjoy myself, knowing they could have been there too, and they weren't."

Well that changes things completely, and Makoto says as much, "Then they're coming! If leaving them behind means leaving you, then we're sticking together."

"Agreed. A single day, that we can share together is better than a day spent apart because of past issues." Ami says firmly. Her blush has died away, replaced by glacial certainty. 

Outnumbered and out-argued, Rei rolls her eyes and concedes. "Alright, okay, everyone has a point about everything, especially the part where we all planned this trip together to have fun. If it means that much to you to have them join us, then it's only fair that we make it happen."

By the look on Mamoru's face, he didn't think he'd be getting what he wanted at all. That's fair - Makoto can barely believe it either. But friendship is as much about compromise as it is sticking up for each other, and in this case, making the one means they're doing the other. And it really is just one day -

"And when it all goes well, we can look into ways to bring them back for real, so that they don't have to be carried around in our purses," Usagi says with a bright smile. "Then we can really hang out together!"

At first, Makoto is sure she heard wrong. Usagi can't really be suggesting that, right? Rei had been right to say that was the one who'd called them all in a panic just a couple of hours ago. She couldn't have changed her mind about all of that this fast. 

Except, Rei and Minako are demanding, "What?" in equally displeased tones, Rei shouting and Minako grimly quiet, so that hope is sure to die soon. She didn't hear it wrong. Usagi really did just say that. 

"It's kind of early to be proposing that, isn't it?" Makoto says, adding her concerns to the pile and avoiding Mamoru's gaze. "It hasn't even been a whole day."

"It's been years, really," Usagi argues instantly. She leans forward, eyes earnest and intent. "We found out today, but they've been with Mamochan for years without causing trouble or doing anything wrong."

"Oh yes, because we should take their good behavior as a pack of rocks as a sign that once they have their lives - and their powers - back they won't get right to their old habits and make trouble?" Rei snaps back. "Not a chance. I agree that it's fair that they should come with us to the beach - I'm not agreeing to this."

"They were under Beryl's control when they did those things," Mamoru says in response, hands gripping tight to the hem of his trousers. He swallows. "I understand your concerns, and I even share some of your worries, but you don't have to disparate their character -"

"So what should we judge them on, if their background is off limits?" Minako shakes her head. "Rei is right. It's one thing to have a harmless group of ex-enemy ghosts hanging around. It's another to put power back in their hands."

"But that's not fair! We don't judge anyone else by what they did when they were evil! Mamochan knows them best, why can't we trust his judgement?" Uncharacteristically serious anger flashes across Usagi's face as she snaps at the two, not a pout but a genuine scowl crossing her face. 

Rei throws her arms in the air. "Because as you just pointed out, they're his friends! Maybe they're well-behaved around him, but they don't have a choice right now. That'll change when they aren't stuck in that jewelry box "

Usagi opens her mouth, and Rei continues, cutting her off before she can even begin. 

"And before you try to bring up Koan and her sisters again, that's different. They lost their powers when they were purified - even if they want to cause trouble, they can't do worse than the average citizen."

"We don't even know that they'll have powers -"

"But it's a reasonable assumption to make, Usagi-chan," Ami says firmly, and her expression is apologetic when Usagi turns to her, eyes wide with betrayal. "It's not that I don't see the merit in both positions and I think there's an equal chance that you're both right - but where the Ayakashi Sisters obtained their powers from their connection to Nemesis and it's Black Crystal, the Shitennou are most likely to have powers based on a connection to the Earth."

"In other words, since the Earth is not a super malevolent prisoner planet, they're probably going to have their powers," Minako says flatly, crossing her arms, "And as long as they have those powers, they could be a threat."

"You could say the same thing about any of us," Mamoru points out, "We all have powers -"

"And we've all messed things up with them! The city has a whole budget just for fixing the things _ we _ break!" Usagi adds sharply. When she looks at them, Makoto recognizes the expression. It's the look that comes to her face when she's ready to dig her heels in. 

So she speaks up. 

"It's too soon to make a decision like this, and we're late in bringing them back. This is all coming down to the fact that no one but Mamoru-kun trusts them, so isn't that what we should work on?" She has to work to keep her voice level and avoid betraying her own conflicted feelings.

She isn't against the idea that the Dark Kingdom's Gen- that the Shitennou, rather, deserve a second chance. If she thinks about it, really thinks about it, the idea of being a thinking, aware person trapped in a rock is terrifying, and she's sure that they don't deserve that, even with all they did. It's just all happening very quickly. 

"You might have a point," Rei admits reluctantly, mouth twisting. "So what's your idea?"

"Might?" Usagi demands, "Rei-chan -"

"I know what I said. And unless you're actually looking forward to telling Naru that Nephrite is back next Monday, then you have to know why -"

"Rei-chan," Ami hisses, shocked. Usagi has gone completely silent, a stricken look on her face. 

Makoto winces. That had been before her time, but in the years since, she's been fully briefed on that disaster. Even she knows that it had played a role in the fact that Naru and Usagi are just friends, rather than _ best friends _ now. 

Rei isn't wrong, but it's a low blow. By the look on her face, all frustrated apology and pinched shame, she knows it. 

"We have three more days before we go to the beach," Makoto says quickly, before anything more hurtful can be said. "That may not be enough time to build trust, but it's a start. Before we spend a day at the beach - or make any other serious plans - why don't we get to know each other?"

The suggestion hovers for a moment, each party absorbing the idea, eager to move the conversation forward and just as reluctant to jump into anything else. 

But, if she does say so herself, it's a good idea. Mamoru knows his guardians. They don't. This solves that problem without any extra difficulty - 

"Get to know them as a group?" Ami asks, a hint of resigned anxiety in her voice. "All of us together?"

"Small groups is the better idea," Makoto answers, killing that idea as gently as she can. She shakes her head, strands of her ponytail sliding against the back of her neck. "Even with just the six of us, we've been going back and forth for over an hour and barely getting anywhere. And we actually know each other."

Ami frowns, but nods, "Small groups then - not because they're a threat, but because we have just three days to become acquainted with them and a full day of school on each of those days. We have exams in three weeks."

Makoto can't help it that her head shakes again, just a little, hiding a smile she's helpless to resist behind her hand. This time it's not denial, but amusement. Of course this is all about the diminishing time they have left for school, and has absolutely nothing to do not with the fact that even now Ami freezes up when she has to talk to a boy she doesn't know. 

Nothing at all. 

"Mamoru-kun," she says next, drawing attention from Ami to the tense boy sitting to the side of her. She makes sure that not a scrap of humor touches her face. "We'll meet with them here, if that makes you comfortable. Or on the roof, so we're not far, but you still have your space."

She can read the concern knitting his brows and darkening his eyes. The reluctant worry in every line of his body. Of course she can. This is something that's been all his, something wonderful and terrible all at once, that's been filling the gaps, the holes in his life, maybe not perfectly but in a way that kept the world on an even keel, and now he's sharing it, not even really of his own volition. 

She understands, because in a way, she's been there. In a way, her apartment, her tiny home with plants in nearly every free corner, in a way it had been her own secret like this, the place that she never talked about, the comfort she didn't want to share. It's not the same, because his guardians are actual guardians, actual people, but it's more alike than it isn't. 

She had felt so under attack when her friends first started coming by. Started visiting. Started seeing the space she had made for her and her alone. 

The others -

She doesn't know if they'll understand. Rei could, maybe, but then again, the home she had built herself was public, was the shrine and she shared it willingly, even as she held it deep in her heart. But Makoto… she gets it. 

This is right at the heart of Team Orphan Issues, and she gets it. 

So she says it again, when he meets her eyes. "Whatever makes you comfortable. I think it would be good for us to get to know them - but if you disagree then that's that. We'll see them again at the beach."

At her words, the others stir. Usagi places a hand on Mamoru's knee, her side pressed tight against his. Ami and Rei draw back, more upright, disliking but not rejecting the idea. 

Minako draws forward, chin in her hands, elbows braced against her bent knees. "No one's going to hurt or damage them, no matter what you decide. So don't make your decision because of what's best for them. Do what's best for you."

And Mamoru looks from Makoto to Minako and back, his hand squeezing Usagi's. And he nods, the worried frown on his face never leaving. 

"Can I think about this?" He asks them, a reversal of their earlier roles. "You're right, and it is a lot to process, and we are late. I'll let everyone know before morning. But can I have some time to think about it?"

Makoto says yes without taking more than a half a second to think about it. The echo of it, as the other girls agree as well, surprises her. 

"It'd be weirder if you didn't want to think about it," she says reassuringly. "Let's bring them back, and we can give them the good news about the beach."

This time, no one has anything else to add. Each head nods. 

No one stops Mamoru from lifting the glass case from the coffee table and opening it up. 

The four stones within gleam in the light, their facets sharp and polished. From this angle, Makoto can see the reflection of Usagi's tiara in one of them.

Her… tiara…

"Wait!" She calls, as the thought occurs to her and Mamoru freezes, hand centimeters from the surface of the palest stone. She casts a frown at Usagi and Minako. "Do the two of you need to be transformed for this?"

Minako pauses, glancing at Rei for a long moment before she looks at the rest of them. A frown curls her lips.

"No," Minako says firmly. "There's no threat."

When she de-transforms, Rei reaches out, patting her knee. In truth, she’s lost none of her threatening aura, just as Rei hadn’t when she dropped her transformation. The two of them have just as much strength in their shirts and jeans as they did in their fukus.

Usagi stays transformed, gloved hands covering her face. What little that's visible is bright red. Makoto frowns.

"Usagi-chan?"

Words are mumbled into cupped hands, so quiet that even Mamoru blinks in confusion from beside her. 

"Usako?"

Another mumble, a little louder this time but still so rushed that not a one of them can understand, and Rei snaps, "Would you just spit it out already?"

"I _ said _ I'm still not wearing a shirt under this!"

Makoto's eyes near bulge out of her skull - when she looks down at Ami and over to Rei she sees that she's not alone in her shock. 

Mamoru, when she looks to him, is bright red. She sees his lips shape the words 'oh no' and 'why this' silently. 

Minako just snaps her fingers, like a lightbulb has gone off overhead. The smile on her face has zero percent sympathy and one hundred percent amusement. "That's right! Zoisite did say something about that."

"_ Zoisite?! _" The three out of the loop Senshi chorus, baffled. 

"Minako! You're making it sound worse than it is!" Usagi wails. 

"Am I really?" Minako teases, flipping strands of hair back over her shoulder. 

"Yes," Mamoru says. His cheeks are still a faint red, but he puts a hand on Usagi's head and shakes her a little. His voice is that of a man walking into the embrace of death. "Go back and change. I'll explain."

* * *

Usagi rejoins the others, her fuku exchanged for one of Mamoru's white button ups and the peach colored skirt she'd been wearing earlier. The shirt is way too big for her, but buttoned up and with the sleeves rolled all the way to her elbows she manages to look less ridiculous and more like she's going for boyfriend style. 

And speaking of said boyfriend, she squeezes his hand tight when she squishes back into the couch beside him, grateful beyond words that the most the others do is roll their eyes (Rei) or shoot her a thumbs up on her outfit (Minako and Makoto) rather than pepper her with questions. 

It _ does _feel more relaxed in here, with nobody transformed or grumpy and all the secrets out. Not totally normal, not like yesterday, but relaxed. Chill-ish. 

"Okay!" Usagi says, forcing brightness and energy into her voice. "Let's bring the boys out so we can tell them the good news!" 

'The Boys?' Rei mouths at her, and Usagi decides to ignore that. She is not letting Rei's hesitations get in her way! This is going to work out, Mamochan will be happy, and the worst thing that's going to happen this whole summer is going to be this whole misunderstanding. 

Mamoru has the box in his hands again, and this time, nobody asks any last minute questions. This time nothing stops him from touching each stone one by one, and with that touch, they don't just gleam, but glow as each hazily shaped inhabitant rises from his stone and takes place on the coffee table. 

Or, well, in the coffee table? 

It's actually poking through them, and it occurs to Usagi that maybe they should have moved to a spot with a little more room…

But the Generals, the Shitennou, they don't seem to mind. Their shapes clear, and Usagi's back straightens as she realizes they don't look the same as before -

Kunzite is the one on the Dark Kingdom's uniform this time, the white cape draping over his shoulders a stark contrast to the grey-blue suit. Nephrite has swapped out his Masato Sanjouin look for a uniform that matches with what Kunzite had been wearing at first, he and Zoisite matching in detailing if not in their colors. For the first time she wonders - is this their original uniform, what they had worn when they guarded Endymion? 

She stifles a laugh as she sees Jadeite - he stands out again, but not because of a uniform. No, this time it's because unlike the rest of them, he looks _ normal _, no uniforms, no fancy suits, just jeans and a grungy green shirt printed with dancing dogs and a plane flying away from a giant mushroom cloud. 

"Why am I not surprised you're a fan of Green Day?" Rei huffs, and it's only because Usagi knows she'd kill her that she doesn't pipe up with 'hey, don't _ you _ listen to Green Day?'

"Well I'm glad one of us isn't surprised by it," Jadeite grins. He actually looks amused, but in a like, normal way, not a super evil 'I'm plotting to open up an evil bubble tea spot' way. Which, it's not that she was doubting Mamoru! It's just still strange and new and - maybe a little weird. A good weird though.

He lifts the edge of his shirt and examines, brows rising as he looks it over. "So, is Green Day better than Red Day, and does anyone know what 'dookie' is?"

Usagi's eyes widen and she hurriedly clasps her lips together, refusing to let laughter escape. English isn't her best subject but she does know what that word means. She and the girls had teased Rei endlessly when Ami finally got over her shock and told them what the name of the album title meant. 

She does not think that mentioning it right this second is going to be a good idea. 

Fortunately, the others must agree, because no one - not even Minako - is making a joke about it. 

"Green Day is a band," she answers cheerfully, "And welcome back! Sorry that we kept you all waiting, we really tried to have the conversation over in an hour."

"So it was more than an hour," Zoisite huffs, crossing his arms. Usagi very carefully doesn't turn to look at him. "Very well. At least you admitted what happened - can I take this to assume we aren't going to be shattered?"

"That was never going to happen," Mamoru says immediately. His eyes are serious when she glances at him, but he forces a smile. "I did get you all an invitation to our beach party, though."

"A -" Zoisite begins, only to have his voice drowned out by a far louder, more enthusiastic one.

"- A party you say?" Nephrite's voice booms - and he doesn't seem to be trying to make it happen. Even as a half-transparent ghost he's big, broader in the chest than Mamoru and with wider shoulders. The voice that comes out of him fits the size, even if he (probably) can't use it to breathe. "With the sun, sand, and surf. I really can't think of better news."

Looking at him makes her teeth want to grind. He looks exactly the same, except for that uniform, and it's like having a flashback to that awful night, only in the - well, maybe not the flesh, but in the real life? The thought, silly as it is, helps derail her her anger. She focuses on the words, not her feelings, and realizes she agrees. 

"That's what I've been saying! It's been so hot that on the walk here I thought I'd melt. The beach is just what we asked for!" 

Zoisite huffs (oh, she's beginning not to like him), saying, "So you're looking forward to going to the beach with us now? You tried to shoot us with a laser beam earlier!"

Why that little -

"Well, to be fair, she was looking at you," Jadeite snarks back before she can say anything. "Come on! A nice girl welcomes us back to the land from the void and the first thing you want to do is interrogate her?"

He claps a hand on Zoisite's back - and actually manages to touch him, which is impressive as far as Usagi is concerned. She certainly couldn't lay a hand on them earlier!

Zoisite sputters, his face turning red, and maybe it's a little mean, but she asks, "How do you blush when you don't have blood?"

It only makes him sputter more, while Nephrite and Jadeite both burst out laughing. They sound like any other pair of guys she'd seen in class, and she relaxes a little more. These are Mamochan's friends, and she wants to get to know them like he knows them. 

Meanwhile, Ami must have gathered her courage - and her tolerance of boys - because she leans closer, tilting her head back so she can get a better look at them. It really isn't fair that they're so tall!

"That is an excellent question." she says in her 'in my head I'm taking notes and writing a paper on this' voice. "Is it that your mind associates embarrassment with blushing or that some variation of your sympathetic nervous system still exists even in this form? Has this ever happened before?"

The look on Zoisite's face could probably be summarized by 'how dare you speak to me', but it sucks for him, because Usagi has never seen Ami care about what a boy who wasn't Mamoru thought. 

And the other Shitennou seem too preoccupied with giggling to rescue him - 

"Should I take your silence as evidence that you're unaware of the answer?"

"It would be the most likely answer," a smooth voice answers. The only one of the four who hadn't yet spoken, and she jumps a little when he does. She's annoyed with herself about it immediately, but sadly, her annoyance still hasn't unlocked a special 'go back in time and redo that' moon power.

Kunzite continues as if he hasn't noticed. Maybe he hasn't. She gets the feeling though, just looking at him, that he's at least half as observant as Minako, and that means he _ definitely _noticed. Darn! 

"My own observation of our condition has indicated that our forms are dictated by a combination of our minds and our histories - we can speak, walk, and do an effective pantomime of breathing if we like, even lacking the physical capacity for such, but we aren't affected by our environment, at least in any flesh-normative way."

"Flesh-normative?" Nephrite repeats. He makes a face "That sounds gross and also like we're zombies. We're just your slightly above average every day ghost-in-a-box, you can buy a million of knock offs of us at Halloween. Trust me, I've seen them at every party store in America."

"You've been to America?" Rei asks, and Usagi is grateful because that means that she didn't have to ask first. She sounds curious in spite of herself, and Usagi is right there with her - she remembers all the questions she had for Mamoru about _ his _trip to America. 

"Yeah, for you know, work. Uh, Dark Kingdom stuff. It wasn't anything to write home about, except for the beef. That was worth crossing the ocean for." He says the words lightly and realistically she knows he's probably hoping it won't make a splash, but irrationally, she's a little freaked. The Dark Kingdom really had been in other places. What would have happened if they'd stayed out of Japan until they were too powerful?

She never thought she'd be happy Tokyo was this big of a trouble magnet. 

"If you don't mind talking about it, I'd love to pick your brain about the beef tomorrow and I bet Ami would love to hear more about your guys being all flesh-normative." Makoto says with a determined smile and an upbeat voice Usagi knows is maybe fifty percent fake. "But there was actually one more thing we needed to talk about, besides the beach party."

"Called it." Zoisite says - quietly, under his breath, and Usagi isn't sure she actually heard it or it she just thinks he'd say it because he's been so annoying. What he says loud enough for her - and everyone else - to hear clearly is "Is this the part where you mention we're being smashed right after?"

"What? No! Why would we go through the trouble of inviting you if we were going to do that?" Makoto asks, baffled, and Usagi has to hand it to her, because she's still picking her jaw off the floor in surprise. 

Maybe she shouldn't be surprised, but she really is. Does it really seem like they'd do something like that?

"You're Mamochan's friends!" She protests, determined to clear that up, "We're not going to do something like that!"

"But you would if we weren't?" He throws back immediately. 

She - she doesn't know what to say to that. She doesn't say anything at all. 

"Zoi," Mamochan says, and his voice is - she isn't sure. Disappointed? Firm? Apologetic? He hesitates, and she isn't sure if it's because he too is unsure of what to say, or if it's because he doesn't want to say it in front of a crowd. He settles on, "Can we talk about what ifs later?"

And miraculously, Zoisite does subside, going quiet. The others too, are conspicuously silent. Usagi's heart sinks a little. 

Makoto clears her throat. "I was going to say, we've been talking, and it would be pretty awkward for us to go to the beach together without knowing each other. So we were thinking that we could spend some time getting to know each other! We're going to the beach on Saturday, so…"

"Today is?" Kunzite asks, casting a glance at his three peers. 

"Oh! It's Tuesday. So we'd have three days - well, three afternoons, we still have school…"

"So I assume we would begin tomorrow? It's growing late." and he inclines his head towards the balcony doors, where the sun has noticeably dipped beyond the horizon. 

Usagi finds her voice. "We would! Only if you all wanted too, though," and this is her own rule, having just occurred to her. "We'd like to get to know you, but maybe you don't want to get to know us, and that's…fine too!"

"We do," Nephrite says, firmly, answering for them all before Kunzite or Zoisite can indicate otherwise. She sees Jadeite's face twitch, but she doesn't know how to interpret it. "I for one would love to know the lovely ladies who mean so much to our prince and who now invite us to their holiday."

Makoto blinks, "It's just the beach?" But Usagi's skin crawls a little. For a second, he sounded like Sanjouin. But it passes. 

Especially when he shakes his head, "It's an invitation you didn't have to extend, even if our prince requested it. We appreciate this, and you."

No one seems to know what to say to that, the sentiment sounding too sincere to be false but too surprising for what they'd been preparing themselves for. 

"Well then," Minako says, having never met an awkward silence she wasn't ready to break. She pops out of her seat and up on her toes, stretching her arms above her head, "If that's settled, we should probably head out. I have homework to ignore and a cat to feed. Kunzite - shall we talk tomorrow?"

Wait, wait, wait! They never settled on picks!

"I have no objections," he responds, face ever neutral. 

Wait! If they're picking now then who - not Nephrite, not Zoisite, not - 

"Um, um, Jadeite! Can I talk to you tomorrow?" Usagi asks quickly. 

"No," Rei says frankly, before he can get a word in edgewise. "I want a word with him and Zoisite."

"What! But Rei-chan!" 

"Usagi-chan - perhaps you and I can catch up with Nephrite-san tomorrow?" Ami asks, and Usagi can't very well say no to that, even if she does want too. 

"S-sure," she says, forcing cheer, "That sounds fun!"

"Rei-chan, if you're taking two of them, then I'm with you," Makoto says, exasperated, "The numbers are already balanced - there's four of them and five of us already, we don't need to make it worse!"

"I'm not making it worse”, Rei responds, brows pinched, "There should be enough time in the day for two conversations -"

"But what if there aren't? A conversation can last a long time, we shouldn't assume -"

They've lost them. This is an argument that's going to take a while, Usagi thinks, and it's already getting dark out. The plan had been for Mamochan to drive her home, but -

She leans up to kiss his cheek. The collar of his shirt slips down her shoulder. 

"Mamochan, I'm going to walk to the station with Ami-chan. I'll see you tomorrow?"

This is… it's not the worst end to one of their dates, but it's definitely not the best either. She sighs, then smiles when he presses a kiss to her forehead. His love is warm and bright where his skin touches hers. His worry is almost as deep. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he agrees, as if he isn't worried, as if she can't feel it. 

She doesn't kiss him again - two is usually plenty for him when it comes to PDA - but she squeezes his hand for a long moment before she draws away. 

"We're going to fix this. Just watch," she promises, and she means this - the argument. The discussion. The mistrust and the doubts. The guardians without bodies. 

All of it. 

* * *

Minako makes her exit first - through the front door, even, unlike her arrival - and she isn't surprised to hear footsteps following her out. She doesn't acknowledge them, not until she's crossed the hall and stands before the elevator, anyway. 

"You didn't want to argue with Mako-chan a little longer?" She asks idly. The metal of the elevator is shiny, new - evidence of how much it must cost to live in this building, that even the service equipment is so well cleaned. She can see Rei's face reflected in the grey metal. She can see her scowl. 

"Not when it means letting you slip away," she says frankly. 

She's angry. Of course she is. 

Minako would be more surprised if she wasn't, not with so many upsets and such a convenient target standing before her. 

"Is it slipping away when I announce that I'm leaving?" She ponders nonetheless, a slip of a smile on her face. She isn't offended when Rei doesn't offer one in kind. 

"When it's you? Yes."

Well. Maybe she deserves that, a little. 

The elevator dings, a soft, polite sort of announcement, and the doors slide apart, beckoning their entry. She steps forward, and Rei follows. 

It descends, and there is silence, for a moment. 

Minako wonders which accusation will come first - there are several that Rei could choose, and they'd all be accurate. She's guilty of deceit by omission, if nothing else. 

"You knew all this time," Rei says, and her voice is low, tight. She's keeping herself controlled, and the cold fire is worse than the heat of her temper. The cold fire burns harsher. "And you didn't say anything. Not even to me."

Betrayal, there. Hurt, but Minako knows better than to think that hurt makes Rei softer. It only means she'll dig deeper. 

"Why didn't you say anything? Why aren't you saying anything _ now _?" A demand. A plea, even, mixed in with the anger.

Talk to me. Don't leave me out. 

And suddenly, it's not a matter of comment for comment. It isn't a verbal sparring match, it isn't about putting off her closest friend. 

It's about the weight of it all, the weight that had been there, waiting all this time, the weight of her responsibilities and the burden of leadership just waiting in the lurch. 

Three months of peace, and she has been waiting for something like this moment for four of them. 

"I knew," she says simply. "Not that they still existed, but I knew what they were. Who they were, back then."

"Why didn't you tell us then?" Rei presses, "Why did you keep it to yourself? You should have said something -"

"When was I supposed to say something? When Zoisite stabbed his prince? When Usagi tried to purify Kunzite and he _ rejected _ her? They were dead, and before that they were traitors. What was I supposed to say, that once upon a time our enemies were Mamoru's friends but don't worry, that hasn't stopped them from trying to kill him?" Against her will, against her own desires, her voice is raising. Her frustrations boiling to the surface.

"Yes!" And Rei is rising to the occasion. "Yes you were! We should have known. You should have told us. Even if we ended up making the same choices, we would have known! The second you found out, you should have told us, so we could -"

Minako laughs. She doesn't mean to, and it's an ugly sound, rough and bitter, not at all cute, not at all casual. 

At the sound of it, Rei stops. Minako knows she's staring, watching, but she can't help it. She laughs. 

"I've known the whole time." she says when the fit passes, while her lungs ache for breath and protest speech. "I'm not Ami-chan, I didn't find this in some dusty old files, I didn't stumble over this - I've known the whole time, Rei. Even before I met you all for the first time, I knew who they were. I knew what they'd been. It didn't matter. They were going to kill us all and they were going to kill _ our princess _, our Usagi, just like they were willing to kill their prince. Maybe I should have said something. But I didn't. I didn't know if you would hesitate, then."

The elevator slows, halts. The chime echoes and the doors slide open. 

"I know better now. I know you'd do what needs to be done. But it - this - was supposed to be over. I didn't want to give the rest of you any regrets."

And Rei, who has been silent, who has let her say her piece, who has followed her from the elevator which now slides shut behind them, who stands at the empty entrance hall to this building -

Rei touches her elbow. 

Rei tugs slightly, coaxes her to turn. 

Rei meets her gaze and looks into it, looks past the surface and sees her. 

"I don't have any regrets," she says. "But I would have wanted to help you with yours. I still do."

* * *

"It'll be a miracle if we don't get our incorporeal asses kicked tomorrow," Nephrite tells Kunzite. He could see the urgency better if he tried, but the truth is, he can't worry about it too much. The Senshi have promised not to kill them, and since Venus - golden haired, ice eyed Venus - had agreed, he's pretty sure they'll keep their word. A little ass kicking would be good for him, probably. 

Kunzite says nothing.

This is not surprising. Nephrite has often found a brick wall to be a more talkative conversational partner than Kunzite - at least a brick wall might make noise as it settled. He keeps talking anyway. 

"But you know, I figure it'll be worth it. Heck, might be worth getting thrown off the roof if it means we actually go up and see it. It's been ages since Mamorin managed it -"

It's subtle, but the flicker of disbelief that crosses Kunzite's face, there for the nearest instance, is exactly what Nephrite was looking for. He grins a little. 

"What, you object? Princess-chan swiped Mamochan already, and you've got to admit it's fitting. Catchy, too."

"I do not."

Nephrite waits a second, but apparently those are all the words he's getting for now. For shame. 

"I think he'd like it. And if he doesn't, I'm blaming Jadeite, so it all evens out in the end. But I think he'd like it. I don't think he likes being called prince. And yes, I know it's his title, but I didn't hear the Senshi calling their charge by title. The world's a different place and all that jazz. Maybe we need to change with it before we get tossed aside like actual rocks?"

There's a bit of bitterness there, a doubt that manages to surprise him (but not Kunzite, by the lack of emotion on his face). He swallows, pretends he's swallowing the feelings down too, like they're one of the many foods he's already forgotten the taste of, and it's just that something sour was on the menu. 

"But anyway, I thought about using his name, but who am I, the proper police? If I'm not going to use a title, I'll go all out. And maybe he'll be so overjoyed he stops his girlfriend from finding a way to give me my well-deserved beatdown when she shows up tomorrow."

"If you consider it well-deserved, why would he help you avoid it?" They can't just pick up books and hide behind them, but Kunzite is certainly doing the next best thing, by floating close to the bookshelves and studying them with steadfast determination. 

"Because it'd be the bro thing to do?" 

"Hm." 

Yeah, okay. No words have to actually be said for him to admit how unlikely it is that Mamoru would step in the middle of things, if they should break out. 

Nephrite doesn't even blame him. If he had to pick between four smoking hot chicks who'd actually saved the world with him, _ plus _ a girlfriend and four pain-in-the-ass traitors who couldn't even grab him a cup of coffee…

Well, he'd be breaking the bro code, that was for sure. 

"I'm not going to try and avoid it or anything," he says, putting the words out so they don't just die in his head. "I know I deserve it, and if the Princess - if Moon - can figure out a way to give it to me, then she's earned it. I just wish -"

And isn't it humbling, that he has to wish. That he has to fumble about and hope for the best when once he could have reached out to the heavens themselves and gotten, if not an answer, then wisdom. 

"I just wish I knew if it would work. She was nice about it in front of the others but I can tell. She hates my fucking guts, and I don't know how to fix that."

He isn't expecting an answer. If he was looking for one, he wouldn't be spilling his guts to Kunzite of all people.

So he nearly swallows his tongue when the other man deigns to speak once more.

"Do you want to fix it?"

"Fuck. I didn't think you were - yes. Obviously, I want to fix it. I don't know if I can, because you know, there's - she isn't even the person I really need to apologise to."

Because Moon - Usagi Tsukino, he corrects himself mentally, Usagi Tsukino - had to hate him for the thing he regrets most. 

A flash of bloodshed and battle cries, crumbling stone, and he corrects himself again, grimacing - regrets second most. 

Naru Osaka. 

It made sense at the time, when the only thing that mattered was his own skin and his own freedom, and paying tithe to Beryl and Metallia so that he could keep both, but that time is past, and the justifications stopped making sense even before he was trapped in this form. 

Naru Osaka had been Usagi's friend. She probably still is. And he played with her heart so he could steal her energy. Dying clearly hadn't made up for that. 

He's drawn away from his thoughts when Kunzite speaks once more. "Admitting that would probably go a long way to negating your 'beatdown'. The princess appears to be of a forgiving nature. Your regret may win a downgrade."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Perhaps a stomping, rather than an ass kicking."

Nephrite snorts, tripped out of self loathing by the unexpected pleasure of hearing Kunzite curse. "Jadeite and Zoisite are not going to believe you said that."

"I'm aware," is the serene response. "I mean that. Not many are given a third chance. This is an opportunity we should not squander. Speak your piece, and let her have hers."

A third chance. That was right. Because whoever they had been - whoever they were in this awful modern world, before Beryl duped them again - was gone, and that chance too. This new start, this beach trip and these conversations -

this is all a new chance too.

"Yeah. I will." He scrubs his hand through his hair, glad that he can feel it even if no one else can. "Good luck with Venus. You're gonna need it."

Silence, for long enough that Nephrite is ready to consider the conversation closed and is contemplating venturing towards the balcony and the darkening sky it tempts him towards. 

"Perhaps."


	3. The Rocks Strike Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stage is set. The Senshi and Shitennou deal with the ramifications of discovery.

Wednesday morning comes and then goes, the inhabitants of Tokyo sluggishly going about their business in the unrelenting heat. The Senshi are no different - their travel to and from school is slow and reluctant, their briefcases spared from being dragged along the ground only by a fear of scuffing (Ami), pride (Rei), or the effort it would take to sink so low (Minako, Usagi, and Makoto). For the four cloistered together in a single school, lunch is spent bemoaning the heat.

The topic of the Shitennou, and the planned afternoon visits, does not arise even once. 

But for Rei, taking lunch alone on the roof of one of T.A. Academy's main buildings, the topic cannot be avoided. She dwells on the memory of last night's conversations, her lips pursed in thought, her eyes far away. 

Before yesterday, she hadn't thought of the Dark Kingdom's generals in years, not with new and worse threats always on the horizon, not with the constant rushing involving in balancing her responsibilities of her education, working at the shrine, and being a Senshi. They were of the past, and Rei has always preferred to focus on the future. 

But the past is present now, and as much as she hates to admit it, she doesn't know what to do. 

It had been easy to be angry yesterday, full to the brim with worry and confusion and frustration as she had been. Yesterday, it had been easy to identify the threats, and to want them removed.

Today she remembers Mamoru's face when those threats returned to their stones. The worry in his furrowed brows, the grim concern that she hadn't - and still doesn't, if she's truthful - understood. He was willing to put them aside, even though he didn't want to, and today that fact chips away at her anger. 

Which is annoying. She wants to feel her anger. She wants to be angry about this, she has the right to be angry about this, the right to want - no, _ need _ \- to be convinced. It doesn't mean she loves Mamoru any less that his guardians spent half of the fourteenth year of her life trying to kill her, her friends, and the citizens of Tokyo to help _ someone else _ conquer the Earth. 

She has a right to be angry about that!

Just thinking about those months, when it was all new and terrifying, and the guilt and relief that had come in killing them and making it stop -

Knowing now that they still existed all this time -

A door shuts, the creak of the hinges loud and obnoxious enough to cut through her thoughts. Rei jumps and has to scramble to keep her bento box from hitting the ground as it slides off her knees.

"Great," she groans, as the one thing she didn't catch - the last of her tamagoyaki - splats against the floor. "They're not even here and they're ruining my lunch."

Clearly, lunch is over. Rei seals the lid of her bento and puts it to the side, then grabs a napkin to scoop up the mess with. 

Maybe it's not fair to blame her distracted clumsiness on a group of ghosts who aren't even here, but none of this is fair. 

It's not fair that Mamoru's guardians served the enemy. It's not fair that they're back again, in the middle of the longest span of peace any of them has known since this mess started. It's not fair that Usagi wants them to bring them back, give them bodies and lives and powers all over again, like they should just be ready to forgive and forget.

It's not fair that without them, Rei might not have ever met Usagi, the girls, Mamoru -

That she might still be alone, not just at lunch but all the time, the spooky girl with the mysterious powers no one wanted to stand beside. 

Her chest clenches at the very thought. For a moment, the sunshine is too bright, the distant sound of her classmates' voices too loud, the solitude of her quiet lunch crushing. 

Her life had been so lonely, before. If the Dark Kingdom hadn't attacked, if Jadeite never targeted her, would they have ever -

No. Rei opens eyes she didn't even know she closed, and tilts her head back, resting it against warm stone. The stone stretches into the sky, full grey cutting against the endless blue of the sky above. 

She would have met her friends with or without the Shitennou. She would have come into this life with or without them. Her home might not have been invaded - her grandfather might not have been attacked - but this life would have come to her regardless, and she doesn't regret that. 

That doesn't bother her. Being a Senshi, it doesn't bother her. Risking her life, saving the city, keeping Usagi out of trouble - 

She told Minako she didn't have regrets and she meant that. In the heat of the day, with the sky overhead and the sounds of normal life, of cars and students and classroom bells surrounding her, she doesn't have regrets. 

So when she talks to them today, it won't be about the past. It won't be about what they did to her, but what they plan to do in the future. 

They don't need to know what Usagi suggested. But if she's ever going to be convinced of that plan - and she doubts it, she doesn't think any of them can say a word that would persuade her to risk the chance of betrayal - she needs to see that there's someone inside of them who would deserve it. 

The bells continue to chime, and gradually, Rei realizes it's the lunch bell, signaling that it's time to return to class. She draws a deep breath, holds it until she feels steady on her feet, and releases. 

Three more hours. 

Let's go. 

* * *

"Ami! Walk with me to Hikawa Shrine!" 

The invitation is more a demand than a request, and their classmates who haven't yet fled for freedom from the oppressive heat of the classroom laugh as they recognize that fact. Usagi latches her arm around Ami's elbow before she can respond, linking them together. No escape!

Ami just blinks in surprise, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. 

"I - yes?" She asks, looking down at their linked arms in shock. She shakes her head and Usagi tries not smile at her bewilderment. "Did - did I forget something, or were we not going to Mamoru-kun's apartment this afternoon?"

"No, we are!" Usagi is quick to reassure, waving her free hand - and her briefcase, whoops - in the air. "But Rei-chan left really fast yesterday, and Mina-chan too actually, but Mina-chan already left, and there's no way Rei-chan's going to come over in her school uniform, so I thought maybe we could try and meet her there? And we could all walk over together! I want to - to make sure she's okay."

Rei had been angry, yesterday, which isn't and wasn't a surprise, but at the time she had assumed it was at Mamochan as much as it was at the Shitennou. She still feels a little ashamed of that, now. There's a lot about yesterday that she's annoyed with herself about. 

She should have known Rei would be worried about Mamoru too. She should have known there was no way she'd want to hear about the Shitennou getting their bodies back after the kind of scare Usagi had thrown at everyone, calling them all up the way she had. 

So now she wants to check in, make sure Rei's okay, and figure out a way to bring the idea back up, without an instant rejection.

Speaking of bringing the topic back up… she glances at Ami with furrowed brows and concerned eyes. 

"I wanted to check on you too. We didn't talk about any of this at lunch."

"We did have lunch in the classroom," Ami points out, but quietly, and with a bit of distance. She sighs, and then smiles faintly. "Alright. Let's go and meet Rei-chan. Let's - talk, on the way."

They keep the conversation light, as they make their way through the halls, ducking around students talking to each other in the halls and running to club meetings, nodding goodbyes to teachers and friends who spot them on their way out. 

For a moment, for just a single moment on her way out, Usagi sees Naru - the back of her head, anyway, walking with a group of girls and Umino, and even though their uniforms are different and her hair is longer, for a moment it's like being in middle school again and her breath catches in her throat. Ami looks up at the sound, and she catches sight too. 

She squeezes her hand. 

"Let's go, Usagi-chan," she says quietly, and takes the lead until they've passed the gates of the school. They talk about their upcoming finals and the homework they have due on Friday, the book she's been reading and the manga that Usagi's reading. 

"I know what they did," Usagi says as they walk past Jewelry OSA-P. She can't resist a glance in the store, but the windows are intact and the customers browsing the display cases look personally normal. "But Mamochan really trusts them. They're his friends and they worry about him and he worries about them, and I -"

She trails off. How does she explain that as much as she hates that he kept it from her, she understands. This wasn't about her, this was about  _ him _ and his boys. How many times have they had a girls night that he couldn't come to? 

She can't blame him for wanting something of that, with the people who are supposed to be to him what they are to her. 

"I understand," Ami says, and it surprises her, enough that she turns her head from the storefront to stare. 

"You do?"

"Of course. I might not be as close to Mamoru-kun as you are but I know what it's like to not have many friends of your own," she says, and there's a twist to her smile that makes Usagi's heart hurt. Of course. "And I learned about who they were to Prince Endymion years ago. It's less surprising than I thought, in hindsight."

Usagi hums quietly, acknowledgement, as she thinks about this. They had gone over that in detail last night, what Ami knew, what Minako knew, what Mamoru remembered, and it's still surprising that so many of them were aware of something she hasn't even suspected.

Ami continues, "I plan to keep an open mind about all of this. If they were manipulated, as Mamoru-kun says, then it would be cruel to hold their actions entirely against them."

"Entirely?" Usagi can't stop herself from asking. She reaches out to press the crosswalk button, rocking back and forth on her heels as they wait for the light. 

"I think it would be prudent to have caution," Ami says frankly. She turns to face Usagi, and her eyes are serious. "We have to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. I want to be sure that we know these men - and trust them - before we bring them back into the world."

"But you'll be thinking about it?" She persists, needing to hear that. She thinks it will be a battle, convincing Rei, let alone Minako. And Makoto - she isn't sure where she'll stand. She'd left the class almost as quickly as Minako, and she'd been all distant smiles at lunch, obviously distracted. If at least one of her girls could be on her side in this -

"I'll be thinking about it," Ami confirms. "We've helped many of our enemies have a second chance, and as you and Rei pointed out last night, the Ayakashi Sisters have flourished with their second chance."

Usagi leans in, hopeful. It's her turn to squeeze Ami's hand.

"That is to say, it isn't as if the idea is without precedent. I'll keep an open mind with Nephrite when we meet."

"Hopefully, he won't be in that suit this time." 

Immediately her hand goes to her mouth as her jaw slackens in appalled disbelief. 

Why did she say that? Why did she say that? Just because it's true doesn't mean it had to be said. Just because it's how she feels doesn't mean she had to just spit it out. Usagi glances at Ami, not sure of what she'll see -

But Ami has a hand to her own lips, failing to hide a smile behind it. 

"So this isn't as easy for you as you've been making it out to be," she says as the light finally changes and they're able to cross the street. "I was wondering. Even you have to admit this is happening - fast."

It's a better reaction than she expected, so Usagi grins a little sheepishly and rubs the back of her neck as they walk. The streets are a little full, but not as crowded as usual - it's too hot for anyone to be out if they don't have to be. It means they don't really have to worry about being overheard. 

"Well… yeah, I guess. The idea of having them around again - maybe it makes a little part of me a little nervous. But I don't want that to get in the way of anything. If I hadn't freaked out yesterday, we could have done this better, and Rei-chan wouldn't have wanted to set anyone on fire."

This time, Ami doesn't bother to hide her laughter, shaking her head as they reach another cross-section and head up the next street. "We both know that's not true. There's pretty much nothing anyone could have done to prepare for that particular encounter and have it all end without Rei-chan wanting to set someone on fire."

Which, well, maybe. Usagi can't really argue that point, because it's probably true. Ami continues, her voice gentling with concern. 

"You were right to 'freak out' yesterday. In the middle of changing you were abruptly confronted by four enemies we all thought long dead. it would have been irrational for you to do anything but panic in that moment, and truly I am impressed that Mamoru's apartment doesn't have any actual holes in it, considering how little time you had to process it all."

And Usagi shakes her head, quick to interject. "But I could have just asked him what was going on! I didn't have to just call you all the second I found out, I could have had time -" 

"But why wouldn't you call us?" Ami asks frankly. "Hindsight doesn't actually tell us what the better choice we could have realistically made is - it lets us see the choices we wish we would have made, if we had only had more information. Even if you could re-do that moment, given the same context, of course you would make the same choice. Thinking otherwise is to pretend you would have been an entirely different person."

This is why it's hard to argue with Ami. This is why Usagi doesn't usually bother, not unless it's about feelings, because at least there, they're easily matched. She'll be better off just dropping it and admitting Ami is right. 

"If I had just thought about it for five seconds, I could have figured out there wasn't a real threat. And then Mamochan and I could have talked -"

"And then you would have told us what happened and we still would have done everything that we did last night. Rei-chan and Minako-chan would have still arrived transformed. Mako-chan and I would have still been cautious. Zoisite would have undoubtedly been no less rude - do you see my point?" Ami delivers each point in the same bluntly practical manner that she breaks down math problems with. The only difference is that this time, there's no textbook or chalkboard for her to emphasize her points on. 

And she has a good point. She has several good points, even, and Usagi can't -

It feels really silly to just say 'no, you're wrong', when she doesn't have any evidence that Ami is wrong, but it's all she wants to do. 

There has to have been a way for this to have gone better. 

"Usagi-chan," Ami says, and the sound of her name draws Usagi from her thoughts. She looks up, and Ami meets her stare. That same gentleness is still in her voice. "It's not your job to convince us they've changed, and it won't be your fault if we don't believe it."

This is something Usagi can't accept. Because there  _ has _ to be something that she can do. Because if she can do this it will be the last piece of the puzzle, and Mamochan will be happy, really happy, the same way that she is. 

The denial must be clear on her face, because Ami's eyes narrow, and when she speaks again, there's still the gentleness, but it's shot through with firm determination. "Do you know why Mako-chan suggested these meetings?"

What? Of course she does! She was there for that. "So that we can all get to know the four of them -"

"Partially correct," Ami says, and Usagi is too astounded by Ami, ever polite Ami, interrupting her to continue. "The larger reason is so that they can convince us that this would be an undertaking worth doing. Usagi-chan, making us believe in them is not your responsibility, it's theirs. They fought us - they fought you. They have to convince us that this isn't something we'll regret."

"But, they're -" she stumbles over her words, and stops, frustrated. 

Ami continues, ticking off on her fingers. "We have a small but significant sample size of these events. The three Makaiju. The Ayakashi Sisters. The Amazoness Quartet. And then there was Nehellenia."

There's a world of commentary left unsaid when it comes to Nehellenia, and Usagi winces, a corner of her mouth dipping as Ami continues. 

"We have no way of knowing how Ail, An, and Fiore are doing - all evidence shows that they haven't returned to the planet since their departures. We've already mentioned the Ayakashi Sisters, and Rei-chan sees them often. And the Quartet were Chibiusa's Senshi, and they helped us fight against Galaxia. There's the chance for a parallel, there."

"That's right!" That was right. Forget Nehellenia, and put aside the Sisters. There was something to be said there, about how the Amazoness Quartet had been just as bad as the Dark Kingdom's Generals, how they had practically specialized in causing chaos and stealing dreams, and how they were surely doing so, so much good now, helping Chibiusa protect the future. They  _ had _ already done so much good, when they came back with her to stand against Galaxia. 

Usagi releases Ami's hand so she can throw her own in the air, barely ducking to avoid getting clocked by her school bag. "This is just like that! Argh, why didn't I remember that last night, that's such a better example than the Ayakashi Sisters!"

Ami just pats her back. "We see the Sisters more often than we see the Quartet, so they stick out more."

Another corner, another crosswalk. Usagi leans against the light pole and huffs. "Still! That would have been convincing!"

"I doubt that. The Ayakashi Sisters were the better example, even if the parallels aren't so neat,  _ because _ we see them more often. But Rei-chan would have probably pointed out the same thing I'm pointing out now -"

"That we have a successful history of helping our enemies make better choices?" She asks plaintively, because she knows this is not it. 

It's not it. 

"That after we sent Nehellenia on her way, we had nightmares for a week. All of us, even Haruka-san, Michiru-san, Setsuna-san, and Hotaru-chan. Even you." Ami's voice is firm. Matter of fact. As cool as ice, and detached, and Usagi hates it because she isn't wrong. 

"That was different!" She protests anyway. "That was - we all agreed that she -"

"We all agreed that we felt sorry for her. That we emphathized with her loneliness and her fear and we wished we could make it go away and give her a second chance, but none of us really wanted to be the one to help her become a better person, and so we gave her what she wanted and sent her on her way and hoped it would all work out. She didn't - we didn't -"

And here Ami falters, her pragmatism cracking. Usagi waits, listening in silence, as she finds her words.

"She didn't do anything to deserve that chance and we have no way of knowing if she'll actually change, or if she'll do it all again, because we sent her on her way. We just have to wait, and hope that another attack won't come, and wait for the day it could. What you're proposing with the Shitennou isn't the same, of course, they would be here in Tokyo, where we could watch them, but -"

She stops there. 

And Usagi closes her eyes and reaches for Ami's hand. 

"But you're scared," she finishes softly. Ami had been so calm last night, so self-assured as she spoke to them and shared what she knew, that she hadn't even recognized what was staring her in the face. 

"I am," Ami breathes. "I meant what I said. I'm going to keep an open mind. But the difference between Nehellenia and the others lies in their behavior, in the ways they proved to us that their second chance was worth the risk. I know that having lowered the bar for Nehellenia, it seems unfair to raise it once more with the Shitennou, but selfishly, I want to be confident this time."

The crosswalk beeps. It's been beeping, actually, and the timer is counting down. Usagi opens her eyes to watch it tick towards zero. 

"It's not anymore selfish than me wanting to rush you all so Mamochan can be happy," she admits, even if it makes her stomach twist. "I know I don't have any evidence and I haven't even really talked to them either, but I know this is the right thing to do. I just know it is."

It's so hard to explain, even to herself. It was like an epiphany had struck her yesterday, rocketed right into her brain with a clue-by-four. In an instant, she'd gone from seeing four terrifying enemies to four of Mamochan's… slightly sorta maybe a little dubious friends. And now that that's up there in her head, she can't let it go. She can't even second guess it. 

It was friendship she saw in their eyes yesterday, friendship and concern shining even in the eyes of that jerk Zoisite. It was the sort of sincerity that couldn't be faked and upon seeing it, all of her fear had gone right out the window. 

And when Mamochan had asked for his friends to be able to come with them on their beach trip, it had been obvious what he really needed, and it wasn't four rocks in a pile on the beach. 

"You've always been the one who had the most faith," Ami says. She steps closer, and they never let go of each other's hands, a fact which is so obvious now, as she squeezes tight. "Faith in us, in the people around us, even in the people we've fought. If they could convince Mamoru-kun to trust them, and you to trust them, then please have faith that they'll convince me of the same."

So Usagi swallows. And she thinks about the happiness that they'll have, really have, when it's the six of them and the Shitennou too, her friends and Mamochan's friends, and everything awful about the past really is put to bed. When it doesn't hurt to remember what once was.

When all of them can be friends, the way they should have been all along. 

She just has to have faith - maybe nudge everyone along, just a little. 

The crosswalk chimes as the light changes color again. On the other side of the street, sluggish pedestrians begin to cross. 

Usagi straightens her shoulders and puts on a smile. "That's right. You'll see, and so will the others. This - this is a good thing, for all of us. So let's go. Let's catch Rei-chan, and get started."

* * *

They're a block and a half from Hikawa Shrine when Ami notices something pink in the corner of her eye and turns to look. It's instinct, after all these years of looking out for and after Chibiusa with the girls. 

But it isn't a pink-haired girl that she's spotted. No, it's a pair of pink overalls, and a familiar back walking away from the shrine. 

"Usagi-chan," she says quickly, laying a hand on the other girl's shoulder and giving it a quick shake. "Look!"

"Huh?" Is the first response, followed by a "WHAT?!" shrieked loudly enough that Ami almost regrets saying anything at all. She might have just lost her hearing - everything is ringing. 

The good news - because there had to be a bit of good news to offset her near-deafening - is that Usagi's scream can be heard clear across the street. Rei proves it by freezing mid-step and whipping around. 

From here, Ami can't see her jaw working, but she can imagine it clearly. Rei wouldn't embarrass herself by screaming back, but she'd want to. Oh. She'd want to. 

"Come on, Ami-chan! We have to catch her before she gets away!"

And then they're running, running to the corner so that they can cross the street, and Usagi is dragging her along so fast that she nearly trips once, twice, thrice -

Ami yelps, "But - but why would she get away?" Her questions don't really seem to be registering though, because they're still running. 

"Because we're going to talk about her feelings, and Rei-chan hates that!" Usagi exclaims, and how does she have enough breath to be this enthusiastic in this  _ heat _ after  _ that _ conversation? How does she have enough air to be this loud? Ami doesn't understand, and she can't catch her breath for long enough to demand an explanation. Usagi continues, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and focused on their pink-clad friend. "If she figures that out -"

Ami looks away - looks down, actually, so she can figure out if watching which way her feet are landing can help her avoid tripping - and so she misses the look on Rei's face when she finally loses the battle over her dignity and yells back. 

"You're shouting your plans for everyone to hear, Usagi! Of course I figured it out!" 

This, by the way, is the shock strong enough to ensure that Ami does finally trip, and as she pitches forward she takes Usagi down with her. They roll across the ground right as they reach the corner, and it's with much screaming, flailing, and general panic that they manage not to roll right into oncoming traffic. Instead, they're just a dusty, scraped pile of limbs lying down on the curb, trying to figure out which way is up, again. 

"Ow ow, ow," Usagi is whimpering in her ear, and okay, fine, maybe figuring out which way is up is only what  _ Ami _ is preoccupied with. There's golden hair covering her face and when she tries to lift it away Usagi yelps and Ami's eyes pop open as she realizes that it isn't just her own hair under her head. 

"I'm sorry! Can you - we're really close to the street, I know it hurts, but Usagi-chan can you roll to the left, so we can -"

She can hear the cars rolling past, and when she manages to turn to the right she can see them, multi-ton frames stuck bumper to bumper traffic, stuttering along entirely too close to her fragile body. 

"Usagi-chan," she hisses when what feels like a minute (but is actually around ten tense seconds) goes by without a response. "Please, just mov- oh!"

Usagi had chosen that moment to move, grabbing Ami's arm and rolling them both half a meter to the left, putting much needed distance between them. On the one hand, Ami is very grateful to once again be a reasonable distance from the road. 

On the other hand, she can't quite draw a full breath and her cheek is currently smushed against the sidewalk. These are both deeply unpleasant sensations. She can feel dust and grit clinging to the corner of her mouth and it is disgusting.

"Usagi-chan," she wheezes as calmly as she can, trying to move her lips as little as possible. "Please get off of me."

Usagi, currently sprawled on her back lengthwise and whining in her ear, obeys. With a feeble little whimper she flops onto her side and Ami is able to draw a full breath of air and sit up. She takes stock of the situation, wiping her face and mouth on the back of a now-dubiously clean hand and trying not to cringe. 

Her uniform is a mess, her skirt scuffed and dirty, the shirt in much the same condition. Her freshly scraped knees, hands, and forearms sting - it's a miracle her uniform isn't stained with blood along with the dirt. And her school bag is… 

In her face?

Ami blinks, utterly confounded, and her bag shakes, and then coughs - no, she dismisses, taking note of the fingers wrapped around the handle. The person holding her bag isn't coughing, they're clearing their throat, because oh, she is taking a long time with this, isn't she -

"Ami-chan, are you going to take your bag?" Rei asks impatiently, and the last of her stupor fades as the last piece clicks. Ami takes her bag, her arms nearly buckling under the weight for a second there, and rests it on her lap. 

As she watches, Rei stands from the crouch she'd adopted, rising to the tips of her toes and stretching her arms all the way up 

"I'm glad to see some things never change," she says with a little laugh a roll of her eyes. 

"?" Usagi asks. Ami doesn't know how she does it. No words were actually spoken, no sounds made, and Usagi doesn't even seem to be looking at Rei, too busy with hauling herself up from the ground -

But Rei answers, like there isn't even anything to ponder in that voiceless, gesture-less question. There's a fond smile on her face as she says, "You two are still absolutely  _ hopeless _ without me."

Ami opens her mouth only to close it, because well, she can't really argue with that one. 

"Maybe we are," Usagi agrees, even. She's gotten back to her feet, and she offers Ami a hand - she's using the other one to fix her hair. Ami accepts the offers, and there's a moment where Usagi nearly stumbles as she braces against Ami's weight. There's a sheepish smile on her face as she looks at Rei. "So, you heard my plan?"

"Everyone on this  _ block _ heard your plan. It's amazing no one reported you for being a public nuisance," Rei retorts. She huffs, brushing a strand of hair away from her lips. "So you're here to make me talk about my feelings, are you?"

She doesn't sound very enthusiastic about it and Ami wouldn't blame her for that on a normal occasion, let alone now. She fully expected that Rei would take the opportunity of their fall to put distance between them. Instead, she's come back to help them up. 

"Only if you want too?" She tries, glancing at Usagi to see what she's thinking -

And Usagi is shaking her head. "You had it right the first time," she says firmly. There's a smudge of dirt on her cheek. One of her odango-shaped hair buns is still in utter disarray. None of that detracts from her stern aura. "We're going to talk about feelings before we take one more step towards Mamochan's place."

"Oh really."

"Yes, really!" Usagi actually stomps her foot in time with her frustrated exclamation, and Ami steps back. "I might have just ate dust, but that isn't enough to stop me. You were upset yesterday, and we're going to talk about it!"

"And what if I don't  _ want  _ to talk about it. What if I've decided to just focus on the mess that we're in -" Rei snaps. Her good mood is fracturing before their eyes.

This is enough. They're still in public. All of this has been happening in public, and it had been one thing to ignore the quiet laughter of people stepping around them. It's another to see people slow and stare as Usagi and Rei start to go at it, paying  _ attention _ to what they're saying. 

Ami draws in a deep breath and reclaims the ground she'd lost in stepping back. She puts both arms out, bodily separating the two. 

"That's enough," she says firmly, "Rei-chan, would you mind if we all went to the shrine after all?"

They're expected at Mamoru's apartment, and it will be terribly rude to leave Mamoru and Nephrite waiting, but this needs to be settled. Usagi's worries, Rei's frustrations, and everything that's already been shared between the two of them - 

It does need to be brought out into the open, but not here on the streets, and not in the middle of Mamoru's home. They're closest to Hikawa Shrine and maybe being on home ground will cool Rei's temper. 

"Fine," Rei says, her eyes narrow and her brows furrowed. "Let's go."

"Let's," Usagi agrees. Her lower lip pokes out in a pout, and then she strides forward, putting herself between the two of them so that she can grab first Ami's hand and then Rei's as she strides forward. "Come on! My knees hurt and I want to sit down while Rei-chan yells at me."

"Yells at - you're the one who was yelling," Rei protests. "I was minding my own business and  _ you  _ -"

They bicker all the way to the shrine, so absorbed in refuting each other that they don't

notice how Ami rolls her eyes and shakes her head. 

Three and a half years and she still feels like she'll never understand the relationship between these two. 

Only the sheer physical exertion of climbing Hikawa Shrine's endless stairs stops them.

Sort of. 

"Why do there… have to be… so many… stairs?" Usagi pants. Her twintails are very nearly trailing along the ground, almost as limp with exertion as Usagi herself. Her forehead is shiny with sweat and her cheeks are flushed with the effort. 

Ami isn't doing much better. She had a water bottle in her bag, but it's empty now, a victim of the heat and Ami's own inability to share. Rei and Usagi should have brought their own, she mourns. 

"You say this every time," Rei groans, and she's the one holding up best. Of course she is. She has to climb these stairs every day. "We're almost there, you big baby."

"I say it… every time… because  _ you _ … never… ever… have a - a - " Usagi doesn't finish the sentence. They've reached the very top of the stairs and she has sunk to her knees, wheezing for breath. 

Ami climbs the very last stair herself, and wavers where she stands. She thinks collapsing to her knees sounds rather nice, actually. 

"Oh no you don't," Rei says sternly, and grabs her shoulder before she can try it. "It's bad enough Usagi went down. Stay on your feet, we're almost there."

"Is there water?" Usagi whimpers. 

"Of course there is!" 

A resigned little whine as Usagi pushes herself back to her feet. The heat has sapped most of the fight right out of her. 

A wave of sympathy washes over Ami and she wishes it was a wave of cool air instead, because that sympathy has her stepping forward and putting one of Usagi's arms over her shoulders. 

"Come on, Usagi-chan. We're almost there. You still have to make Rei-chan talk about her feelings, remember?"

"Ami-chan!" Rei squawks in betrayal. Ami promptly ignores her, offering little more than a hapless shrug. 

The extra heat and sweat of having Usagi propped up against her is worth it, if only for the cooler air offered by the living quarters of the shrine, cast entirely in shadow with the shutters pulled shut. 

The water Rei offers them is even better. Ami and Usagi spend a few moments doing nothing more than drinking cup after cup, slaking their thirst. Rei doesn't do much better, draining her cups with slower, more refined sips, but still putting away just as many cups as they do. 

It's several minutes before anyone even manages another word. 

"Look… Rei-chan, I really don't want to fight," Usagi starts, and out of the heat, hydrated, and with her hair fixed back up, she's managing a much calmer attitude. 

Ami approves.

She continues, swallowing hard. "And if you really, really don't want to talk about your feelings, you don't have to, but - I'm sorry."

"For what?" Rei asks immediately. She's got her arms crossed, watching Usagi. It's hard to tell what she's thinking, with how perfectly blank her face is right now.

"Not for suggesting it," Usagi clarifies just as quickly. She puts a hand up, as if physically asking for a moment. "I still think it would be the right thing to do, and I don't want to fight about that. But I am sorry I scared you, and then threw that out without giving any of you a chance to get used to the first thing."

It's… not a perfect apology. It's not even the best Ami's heard out of Usagi. But it's a good start, and Rei must agree, because she doesn't say anything else. She just waits, and watches Usagi. 

"Ami-chan pointed it out, and I was thinking about it, I swear, but - I know it has to look strange that I called you all in a panic and then like an hour later I said we should bring the people who scared me back. But I'm not being a space case and I haven't forgotten what they did. I haven't forgotten how scared I was either -"

"Then why did you suggest we bring them back? And why did you drag Ami-chan all the way here just to say that -"

"I wasn't dragged," Ami interjects, a frown jumping to her face. "It was my choice to come here -"

"Because Usagi asked, right?" Rei asks bluntly, and Ami can't help but be hurt.

"I don't need to be following Usagi-chan's lead to be worried about -"

"Hey! Hey!" Usagi slaps her hand down on the table, hard enough that the sound echoes through the room, hard enough that she very obviously instantly regrets it, her face a pained grimace. But the hand stays down and she looks at the both of them seriously. "Rei-chan, that isn't fair. Ami-chan, you know she doesn't mean it."

They stare at each other, Ami looking into Rei's face and Rei looking back. There's frustration in Rei's face, and Ami is sure there's hurt in her own. Rei's the one who looks away. 

Usagi continues, lifting her palm from the table and rubbing it with her other hand. "I really, really don't want us to fight. I want us to talk about this - the three of us - that's why I asked Ami-chan to come with me to try and catch you before you left, Rei-chan."

"Why?" Rei asks. She's crossed her arms, but the skepticism on her face carves softer lines than the frustration had. "Why just the three of us?"

Ami answers, even though she sees Usagi opening her mouth, even though answering means speaking for her. She answers because she can't believe Rei has to ask. 

"Because it was the three of us that started this," she says, with a matter of fact tone, the same she would use sharing chemistry facts. "Because first there was Usagi, and right after her me, and then you, and for months it was just the three of us against the Dark Kingdom. Don't you remember?"

"I remember," Usagi says seriously. "I remember how we had no idea how our powers really worked or what the Dark Kingdom wanted besides energy. I remember when we didn't know that Tuxedo Kamen was Mamochan, and we had no way to call him for help, and how Luna didn't have any real answers, just suggestions. I remember when it was just the three of us, and how scary it all was. Don't you?"

They look at Rei, the both of them, and Ami can't speak for Usagi, but she's nervous, almost uncomfortable, just as much as she had been on the walk over.

They wait for a moment and then another as Rei soundlessly works her jaw, obviously deciding on and then discarding ideas of what to say. 

Eventually, she finds her words. Both hands are placed flat on the low table as she leans forward, the frustrated confusion pouring from her. 

"Of  _ course _ I remember. That's why I don't understand! Even leaving the past in the past, there isn't any reason I've heard for doing something so permanent. Usag-chan, you say you know that it's weird that you just got up and changed your mind about them but you haven't said why you did it. And Ami-chan - you always make your decisions on evidence and facts and yet now you're here agreeing with her, without sharing why either. So what do we have to talk about, when you two are on one side and I'm on the other?"

Maybe it was unfair, to discuss things before they arrived. Ami hadn't thought of how it might seem, to approach Rei about this topic with the matter so obviously settled - or maybe it's only obvious to Rei, because she's looking and thinking and pondering too. Does it really feel like they're picking sides? Did they come here to talk, or to put pressure on Rei? Does it matter, when the latter is how she feels?

It does. 

Of course it does. 

Ami reaches out, placing her hand over Rei's and wrapping her fingers around her palm. She shakes her head. "Rei-chan - I'm sorry. I didn't come to put pressure on you, or make you feel like you have to pick a side. I haven't shared what made me agree with Usagi-chan yet because my mind I isn't made up," she doesn't look at Usagi as she says this, even knowing it won't come as a surprise to her friend. She just focuses on Rei. "I came today because even if we don't all end up agreeing on what to do, I know that you'll - I know that you'll understand, in a way Mako-chan and Minako-chan can't."

"Rei-chan," Usagi begins next, and then stops. She has her hands in her lap, and they're fiddling with the edge of her skirt. She inhales, slow and long, and then exhales in the same manner. "Rei-chan, I'm still scared of them too."

It's not what either of them expected her to say. They wait, Ami and Rei together, for her to say more. They don't have to wait long. The words come out slowly, falling in bits and pieces. 

"I screamed when I saw Jadeite, because he was wearing that uniform, and even though it's been so long, it was like having a nightmare but I was awake. It wasn't even about me not having a shirt, it was just seeing him, and then realizing all the rest of them were there too, and I- I was so scared, and when Mamochan came in, I looked at him, and I realized he knew they were there. He wasn't scared, because he knew. And I was hurt, and I was still scared, and so I called you guys."

"I know you were scared," Rei says, and her voice is rough. She swallows and the intensity in her eyes burns. "I was too. I jumped out of bed to get there, you know? Because you called and you were upset and I could hear the fear in your voice. And then I got there and -"

"And I'd changed my mind," Usagi finishes for her. One of the hands in her lap reaches up to coil a bit of hair around her fingers, and she tugs it. Her voice breaks a little. "Yeah. I'm trying to explain, okay? And it might not make sense, but just, let me try?"

"...alright."

"So I've been worrying a lot lately. About you guys, and Mamochan, and when a monster will attack and if everyone will even have a good time at the beach and if it was a good idea and if you're happy, and if everyone's happy and so even though I was scared and even though I still don't like Nephrite and even though I had a nightmare about them last night, I saw Nephrite reach out for Mamochan. And I saw Jadeite do it too, and Kunzite stayed right next to him and even that jerk Zoisite got close when you got there, and it was like seeing all of you guys, but for Mamochan, and they were taking care of him. They're his  _ friends _ , and they care about him, and then Minako-chan said they're his guardians and I thought, and I thought, and when he invited them to the beach I thought he must really want them to stay, and they're his friends and they make him happy so I just said it. And I meant it! I mean it. I want that. They're his friends and they make him happy and that's worth being kinda scared to me, but I didn't tell you what I was thinking and -"

"Stop talking and  _ breathe _ ," Rei interrupts suddenly, and Ami jumps to be so abruptly drawn out of the telling, and then she notices it too, how deep the breaths that Usagi is drawing now are and how long it's been since she took one. "You really are a bun brain, were you going to just talk until you passed out? Dummy - no, don't say anything, just drink your water and breathe some more. It's my turn."

Rei takes her own advice. She drink some water. She takes a deep breath. She says, "Asking to bring back four evil dead guys to make Mamoru happy isn't the dumbest thing you've ever said, but you're on thin ice. And I must be too, for even  _ thinking _ about considering that good reasoning."

Usagi coughs on her next swallow, and against all advice Ami doesn't take a single breath. She just listens. 

"I think this is a terrible idea. I don't think there's a single thing that they can say that would make me think this is anything less than one of the top ten worst things I've heard all year. But. I'm glad you told me and I guess I'll give them a shot and actually let them try and change my mind."

Ami's jaw drops. So does Usagi's. And then -

"Rei-chan, thank you, thank you, thank you -!"

Water goes flying into Ami's lap as Usagi lunges across the table to squeeze Rei-chan in a hug and Rei-chan tries and fails to get away and Ami is laughing too hard to breathe, even though the water is very cold and seeping into her skirt, because she's just so glad. 

This is normal, and even with a big decision ahead of them, they're going to be okay.

* * *

Across the ward, at Mamoru's apartment, a very different conversation is happening. The reasons for this are multiple: the two involved are much calmer, for one; the discussion, while focused on the same subject, isn't nearly as emotional, for another; most importantly, it would be rude to ruin good tea and better snacks with bickering. 

Mamoru is far too fond of Mako-chan cookies (and of course Mako-chan) to vehemently argue his position. And Makoto is enjoying the tea (and company) too much to consider discussing endlessly her concerns and doubts

This is why the subject of their conversation isn't so much focused on the who(s), but on the what.

"Do they always call you prince? Does that ever get strange?" 

Well, maybe it's a little bit of both. 

Mamoru considers the question, taking a sip of his tea to draw out the time he has to formulate an answer before it gets weird. The answer is yes and yes but -

he glances at the three stones still resting in their jewelry case

\- admitting it seems a little rude. 

"I think they remember the prince best," Mamoru says, finally, going with a soft version of the truth. "They call me Endymion too, sometimes."

They called him Endy, actually, and it's both better and worse, to use a nickname that practically drips with fondness, and have to worry if that fondness is for him or a memory. 

Some of those mixed feelings must seep into his tone, because Makoto frowns.

"Is that better or worse?" She asks, tracing the edge of a cookie around the rim of her mug. 

"...a little of both. They're working on it, but I think when they look at me, half the time it's their prince that they see."

He can see the momentum when Makoto decides not to point out that he  _ is _ their prince, and he's grateful. The conversation lulls for a moment, as she bites into her cookie and he selects a new one, and they linger in the strange land that opens when good friends stumble across a topic that begs the question of whether or not they're close enough to tackle it. 

But the lull doesn't last long. It isn't allowed too. 

Because where Mamoru would have allowed the moment to stretch on, to swallow the conversation entirely, Makoto must be determined to see it through. She sets her tea cup down, the light clink of china against wood first to break the silence. This is it then. She's going to ask why he hid the truth for so long, and this time there isn't an Ami willing to reveal a truth of her own to cover for him. 

"Tell me your favorite things about them," Makoto requests, and he can only stare. 

"My - what now?" He finds himself asking, aware that he must sound like a fool and unable to change it. 

"Your favorite things about the generals," she repeats patiently, and then frowns. "I mean, the Shitennou. Sorry, it's going to take a bit of time to get used to that. But there have got to be all kinds of things you like about them, right? If you don't mind, I'd love to hear about them "

If this were coming from Minako - well, he hates to admit it, but he'd be suspicious. With Makoto though? It's hard to doubt her. And it's harder to be reticent. 

"I don't mind, but why?" He asks, thinking over the question. Some things come to mind right away - but they aren't all things he wants to share, not even with Makoto.

"Because… I think hearing about someone through the eyes of a person who really loves them is the best way to learn about them," she answers. She wraps both hands around her tea cup, as if warming them, and continues with a rueful smile. "I know I'm the one who suggested that we talk to the Shitennou, and I do still think it's a good idea! But - you've known them for a couple of years. For now at least, there are things about them that I can only learn from you. And I just know that those are the things that will really help me feel comfortable about bringing them back."

He has to process the thought of that - the thought of acting as a window between these two pieces of his life, sharing the light and opening the doors. It's strange, but not unpleasant, and the first thought to pop into his head is 'Nephrite would say that's the title of my sex tape.'

It takes every ounce of self-control he has to not burst into (yes, somewhat hysterical) laughter. 

"My favorite thing about Nephrite is his sense of humor," he says instead, and if his voice is still a little strangled from trying to hold in his laughter, at least Makoto doesn't call him on it. "Jadeite's funny too actually, but in that way where you can't tell if he's being serious or telling a joke because sometimes he's just like that. With Neph - honestly, it's like that month when Minako-chan got obsessed with space puns -"

"So every month?" Makoto asks dryly, and they share a laugh. 

"You have a point but - honestly, yes. He just has this way of finding the perfect moment and he's always pulling pranks! You'd think that with everything, that would actually be pretty difficult, but okay, so, for example, there was this one time -"

And so he finds himself drawn into conversation, sharing stories of pranks and jokes played between his guardians, stories that lead naturally from Nephrite's pranks to Zoisite's frequent retaliation and Kunzite's resigned efforts to bring them back under control, to the few and far between times where the Shitennou's leader would actually retaliate himself, usually in conjunction with a Jadeite who would happily confess to 'loving the drama'. 

He tells her about the blond's dramatic streak, and how contrary to anyone's guess,  _ he  _ was the one most likely to start something, but still somehow end up the one uninvolved and unscathed at the end. It was like having a little brother, he confesses, like a less argumentative version of Usagi and Shingo's relationship. He's never felt anything like it. 

"I know what you mean," Makoto says, and he looks at her in surprise. She smiles, and it's wistful, a smile from rainy days with thunder cracking overhead, days where they sat drinking hot chocolate with too many marshmallows and an endless stream of whipped cream, pretending the storm couldn't hurt them. Pretending they weren't afraid. She puts on a wider smile. "I mean it! That's what it's like sometimes, refereeing Rei-chan and Usagi-chan. Like suddenly, I've somehow become a big sister."

They could continue like this. Light-hearted stories and favorite things. But he let Makoto do the heavy lifting the first time they had a conversation like this. He's the one who needs to give the conversation a push now. And he knows just what to say. "It's like piecing together a new family, moment by moment."

Just to say the words makes his own pulse rate, has him very aware of the best of his own heart, of the blood pounding in his ears. 

"That's the real reason I didn't say anything," he explains, each word falling with the weight of confession. Across the table, Makoto sits still and stiff in her chair. "All this time, it felt fragile, precious. As if at any moment, it could have all fallen apart again. I was afraid that what I'd built - the relationships I made, with them and with  _ you _ \- would snap under the pressure."

It's not funny, but Mamoru finds himself chuckling anyway, quiet laughter spilling from his lips. 

"It's funny, isn't it, that doing just that is what almost ruined everything?"

"I think they'd call it irony, in literature class," Makoto replies. She's shaking her head, but he can tell that it's not him she's refuting. "Sometimes, it's just hard to talk about things. Saying it out loud makes it real, and you can lose things that are real. But you don't have to worry about losing me - and I don't think you have to worry about losing them, either. Building a family is hard, and now, I don't think I'll have any trouble getting to know the rest of yours."

Hope perches in his chest, a warm thing filled with feathers. "Really?"

"Really. It's going to be a lot harder to worry about those guys causing trouble now that I know how many of them cried watching Ghibli movies."

His cheeks hurt, and he realizes he's smiling - grinning, really, grinning like a loon. For the first time he really allows himself think about what Usagi's proposal would mean.

"It's funny, but that's exactly what I said."

* * *

"I loved you, once," Venus says, her tone as carelessly casual as petals blowing in the wind. She is as beautiful now as she had been countless millennia and two lifetimes ago. "But it was a child's love, and you were right to say it should never have been."

She stands with her back to the sun and her hair gleams like molten gold. It should be unfathomable that mortal flesh and bone can inspire the same electric combination of terror and admiration that the immortal Venus, goddess among goddesses once could, and yet here they are. 

In a small way, Kunzite is vindicated. Mortality and the strength of mortals  _ are _ as wondrous as the glories of the White Moon. 

In far more pressing terms, he is facing mortal fear. Perhaps ironic, that now that he is more akin to Venus' lost immortality that he would most fear for his life, but then, as a mortal, Venus could not have literally held his life in her delicate hands. She could not have tossed him into the air with all the mindfulness a curious cat might pay to an ant crawling by. 

She continues, his silence seemingly accepted as contribution. 

"After all, neither my love for you nor your own love for your prince kept you from straying. He claims it was Beryl's interference that lead to your betrayal. What do  _ you _ say, Kunzite?"

He is not a diplomat. He is no wordsmith, capable of weaving cruel truths into a beauticious display. He had been Endymion's monster and then Beryl's, and it should be no surprise that his bloodied hands had crushed the hearts entrusted to them. 

But it had been, and he knows Venus, or he knew her once. That she's bothered to give him this chance to speak rather than drop him from the roof's edge and deal with the consequences later speaks to her curiosity -

No. Curiosity is too flippant a thing for this. To her desire for closure, perhaps. Her interest in closing this chapter of their existence. 

It is a good thing that he draws no breath and bares no flesh. If he lived as a mortal being still she would have killed him where he stood, and he would not have stopped her. 

The princess and prince's wills be damned, were he capable of posing a threat to their futures he would be dead, and were he tangible he would be a threat. 

It's what he would do, and they have ever been too alike.

The stone is tossed and caught. Sunlight refracts where it strikes the smooth facets. Tossed and caught. Venus had worn a hair pin that glittered like that, once. Tossed and caught. Arterial spray had not diminished its beauty - nor her own. 

"A coward blames others for his failings. Beryl's power would have held no sway had my heart been untouched by doubt."

She looks at him, her gaze is pitilessly unimpressed, and he knows that this is not enough. 

"You once said that the only thing worse than a man's appetites was his ego. That I did not take heed to your words is only proof that you were right." He closes his eyes, shutting out the present to better fall back into the past. "I did not trust Endymion's promises or the vision of the future he sought to create with Serenity. What did a boy barely a man, beloved by those who knew him and feared by those who did not, know of the hatred between our peoples? How could one couple's romance soothe the fears of our people, who looked into the sky and saw not hope but despair?"

Kunzite does not look at her, but in his mind, cast back into the past as it is, he sees her anyway. The chill of her gaze focused on his prince with all the mercy offered to an enemy in sight. The taut grip of her fingers wrapped 'round wrought iron fencing as she leaned over the railing. The tension along her back as she withheld the reflex to leap into the garden and wrest away her wayward princess. 

He had felt the same. To look at them and their dalliance, the carelessness of their affection as they flirted in the gardens had been to test patience and sense alike. 

That disapproval had been the first, and for a time only, thing they had in common. 

"In action, I followed his orders. I obeyed his will and shielded his activities from prying eyes. But in my heart I was certain that he was acting the fool, as all men under the spell of romance become."

"It isn't only the men," Venus says then, her silence finally broken. Her voice is again light and airy, the chill frost melted. He is not fooled. This admission has not won him her good graces. 

In his memory, he sees the cut of her eyes, the scowl that crossed her face when she saw her princess radiant under the light of the moon, wrapped in the arms of a Terran man as she stood on the soil of the Earth. When she speaks, he hears her voice as it had been, in the old cadence. "But I'll take your word for it. In your heart you thought you were a tool in the hands of a fool. Did it seem wiser then, to carry out the will of an obsessed witch?"

Imprisonment has not suited him. It has wasted away his once commendable self-possession. This is the only explanation for the fact that he acts on the impulse (a self-destructive one, truly) to inquire, "Were all the Moon's people not once called witches?" 

Perhaps Nephrite had a point when he called him an 'idiot who hides it well'.

Against his better judgement, Kunzite finds himself looking at her, eyes fixed on the present, the past dissolving. The illusion of the long gone Venus vanishing in the face of her present self, elaborate, deadly hairpins replaced by a crimson bow, the armored shoulders replaced by translucent spheres. 

Her lips are creased in a smile. Her gloved fingers are curled around the squared off stone held captive in her right hand. 

"I called her a witch because if I start calling her a bitch now who knows what I'll end up calling  _ you _ by the end of this."

Well.

_ I deserved that _ , he thinks, but cannot bring himself to say. For a moment, the conversation hangs and he can see her interest wane. How off-putting it is to be on the other side of this, to have it be his fate that relies on the intrigue of another. 

"I told myself that there was no harm in hearing her out. That diligence demanded that I should hear the enemy's rhetoric, and that if I should do so I must bottle the poison at the source."

"Oh yeah," she says, the syllables drawled sarcastically. "Right to the source, but it was just for the rhetoric, of course, that's definitely all it was. Look. I've been patient with story time, but the clock is ticking and you haven't given me a straight answer. Mamoru-kun says you saved his life. Mamoru-kun says you were under Beryl's control. When you say your heart was touched by doubt is that your way of saving face because you were brainwashed, or is this you admitting you turned traitor?"

"Is there any real difference?" 

Her exhale is proof that it isn't only pictures that can be worth a thousand words. He watches the emotions that paint themselves across her face - frustration and disbelief melting into irritation and then dissolving into bland acceptance. She looks to the sky. 

"This is the reason I decided men aren't worth it." Venus says, voice low. Perhaps he wasn't meant to hear it. More than likely, he absolutely is. At a more proper volume, she adds, "There is a difference. I am not explaining it. Stop trying to be in control of this situation and just give me a simple answer: did she fuck you up or did you fuck us over?"

Kunzite hasn't had a physical body in three years. That's rather neatly eliminated some of the more common corporeal necessities - feeding himself, breathing, sleeping, that sort of thing. It's ridiculous then, that he finds himself needing to swallow before he can force the words, "She fucked me up," to pass his lips.

He doesn't have taste buds anymore, and defeat is a psychological concept rather than a consumptive entity, and yet still it feels as though he's eaten something bitter. That, more than anything, is why he forces himself to continue. 

"I allowed my doubts to fester, I allowed my arrogance to blind me, and I -"

"Got to cause the worst case scenario consequences you were afraid of. Yeah. It's called dramatic irony and you're the new poster boy," she interrupts, unsympathetic - but not unaffected.

There is a table to the side of them, undoubtedly set aside and forgotten after some rooftop gathering. It isn't a pretty thing - water marks from long past rain leave irregular circles in the black outer casing and dust coats the surface as a whole - but it is relevant, now, for Venus places his stone on the table and walks away from it. 

Walks three feet away from it, but it most certainly counts. She halts at the rooftop railing. Her fingers curl over the wrought-iron structure. Her hair blows in the wind as she looks out over the city. 

Kunzite watches her, and this time, he forces himself to see not the bygone past but the present. To see the girl whose cheeks are still ever so softly rounded with youth. To see the frustration furrowing a brow that Venus would never have allowed to wrinkle. To see that this time, she is far younger than he. 

"I've hated you for a long time," she says. "Since I was thirteen years old and the first guy I really, really liked turned out to be working for you. Or maybe since you turned your back on our promise, and killed your charge and mine. With two lives, it's hard to tell what came first, you know?"

He remains silent. This, he can tell, is her time to talk. 

"So I wasn't exactly weeping when it turned out you were still taking orders from Beryl. Fool me once shame on me. Give you a second chance to wreck it all again? No way. And nobody knew. 

Usagi-chan, not Mamoru-kun - no one really remembered any of it, and the stuff they did remember? No one wanted to relive. That's cool. Me?"

She leaves the word hanging there, staring up at the sky as if she could see through the clouds to the Moon continuing it's slow march through the heavens, lone and barren and empty, a planet of graves. 

"I remember everything."

For a moment, the tragedy of that doesn't strike him. For a moment, he thinks, so do I. 

And then he remembers: his first life had lasted twenty-seven years. What he remembers of it is focused on the latter twenty, from the moment he was brought before an expectant queen to the moment he died fighting for an illegitimate one. Venus had stopped counting her birthdays after her seven hundredth year. 

'What's the point?' he remembers her saying as they lay together in the dark, the doors locked, heavy curtains drawn over the windows. Hidden from the world together. 'When you've lived so much life, the years start to blur. It's better to celebrate the important things.'

What must it be like, to be a teenage girl - not yet a woman! - and be perhaps the only living soul to remember centuries of a society long dead?

He's called her Venus all this time, because when he looks in her eyes that's all he sees. But that isn't her name. That's just the ghost she carries with her. 

"I liked hating you," she muses, "And I think I still do. Even if it isn't fair. Even if you weren't yourself."

A part of him aches to hear that, the part of him that carries the memory of her with him. She made him long to write poetry, once. To craft something beautiful with his own hands. 

He had loved her once, and it wasn't enough.

* * *

With Kunzite gone, half the stabilizing force in the room is gone too, and Nephrite is not remotely equipped for managing these two on his own. He's been preparing himself for what he personally considers will be maybe the suckiest conversation of the year - so he does  _ not  _ have the patience for this. Weren't they all supposed to be called up at once, tossed at terrifying girls like a sacrifice to some hungry god?

Why was Kunzite the only one to get called on time, and more importantly, why is he stuck here with Zoisite and Jadeite? 

"- so they can 'get to know us'," Zoisite is saying, his pretty face twisted by a sneer. He's pacing, except not, because pacing is measured and steady, predictable, and Zoisite veers in random directions, pivots and turns on his heels, throws his hands in the air and circles around as if he and the flames that once leapt to his fingertips were one and the same. His voice rises and falls like the flame too, cracking like the second coming of puberty when his anger gets the better of him. "Why do they need to  _ know _ us?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jadeite drawls, "Could be they just want to be sure we don't stab them while their backs are down. Just a suggestion."

His face is a study in compare and contrast next to Zoisite, as smooth as a shelf of ice and just as expressive. Someone who didn't know him well would think his flippant tone was the beginning and end of it all, but Nephrite is unfortunate enough to know the little brat, and the glint in his eyes says he's enjoying this. 

Of course he is.

Nephrite doesn't know what bug crawled up his ass when they kicked the bucket, but it's sure as hell been getting a kick out of making sure Jadeite's been a bigger bitch than Zoisite usually was. 

Used to be, Jadeite was the calm, relaxed one. The guy who played diplomat and smoothed things over when the rest of them inevitably pissed the wrong people off. But he’d shed that skin between deaths and the man who’d emerged from the aftermath used those same skills to needle and pry at every weak spot they had.

Zoisite exhales through his nose, sounding more like an angry bull than a priss who might have weighed sixty kilograms soaking wet. 

"Are we supposed to carry that burden for the rest of our lives? We weren't ourselves then and we paid for that with our lives -"

"And so did _they_," Jadeite snaps, some of his icy neutrality cracking. His image flickers through a dozen ages - a spitting mad seven to a blood-soaked twenty-three, before settling on the gangly teenager he'd been in their first year as the Dark Kingdom's minions. Through it all his eyes glitter with fury. "When are you going to get it through your thick skull - _we are_ _the bad guys here_! Why don't you try being grateful we still exist instead of being pissy the world isn't tripping over itself to cater to your ego?"

"Grateful," Zoisite bites out after a moment of stunned silence, his face bloodless with shock. His steady image is stark contrast to Jadeite's rapid flickering of layers. He's finally stilled from his erratic movements, standing stockstill. "Grateful. You think I should be  _ grateful _ for this half-life we're forced to live, unable to so much as look at the outside world without someone else's say so and permission, because oh, at least I exist? You think I should be grateful for this scrap you call an existence?"

He flings his arm out, fingers pointed squarely at Jadeite's chest. It is clear as day that he is not seeking an answer. 

"Grateful for what? Grateful that the only life I can remember is one of servitude? Grateful that when I wasn't Beryl's lackey I was Endymion's advisor and either way my life was never my own? And no, don't you take Kunzite's place defending our master - it wasn't Endymion's fault, we are his brothers in arms, yes the old oaths hold, none of that’s the point!”

“Then what is the point? That you feel oh so neglected, oh so used and abused, give me a break -”

“Alright, that’s enough, you’re both being assholes,” Nephrite snarls, shouldering his way between them, using his broader bulk to force them apart. In the heat of the moment, they’d been drawing themselves closer to each other, and he’s sure it won’t take much to escalate this from thrown barbs to thrown blows. 

And yeah, he could handle that, he's built to take a hit and put down a tank, but fuck if he wants to, he's already going to get his balls rightfully busted by the scariest cute girl hang to hit the streets.

He's got a good ten, fifteen centimeters on both of these idiots, and once upon a time that would have been enough to at least get them to cuss him out and make way, but right now, today, the only things keeping them from getting right back in each other's faces are his shoulders. The two of them are crowding  _ him _ . What the fuck?

"It's enough when I've had enough," Zoisite growls, and yeah he's still bloodlessly pale with rage, actually leaning around him to stare daggers at Jadeite. "If you want to hate yourself for what Beryl made us do then hate yourself but don't force your issues on me. I'm not going to spend what's left of my life thanking people for handing down punishments I don't deserve!"

There's silence. Finally. He wasn't expecting that. Maybe he can actually get this shit put to bed before the Senshi start plucking them out and get a good look at what life in Rock Town is really like. 

"Zoi, you made your point. You feel like we're jumping hoops and I get it, but you know yelling about it isn't actually going to change anything, so let's just all calm down and - Jade, are you laughing right now? Are you serious?"

And yeah, maybe it's not a part of the negotiating gig to lose a little of your own temper trying to cool someone's else's, but seriously?

But yeah. 

He is laughing, his head low, his curly bangs hanging in his face, like all of this has been a comedy show and he's just heard the best joke of the night. 

"Sure am," Jadeite says eventually, not even a lick of regret in his voice. He's still got laughter in his voice as he says it. "I can't believe you aren't.  _ Punishments we don't deserve? _ "

Except that, that wasn't laughing. That was a fucking snarl. 

He drags his hand through his hair and lifts his head, strands spilling between the gaps in his fingers and his teeth are bared in an expression Nephrite can't rightfully call a grin. 

"Punishments we don't deserve," he spits the words like poison. "I could always count on you to be the clueless one Zoi. Some spy you turned out to be."

"Clueless -" Zoisite demands, furious, but he doesn't gets the chance to continue, Jadeite cutting him off with a voice like ringing iron, insistent and  _ loud _ . Nephrite had forgotten he did radio, once, but he can't forget it now, not with the effortless pitch he throws to his voice, hearing it swell and fill the endless void of their prison. 

" _ Don't interrupt me _ . I let you have your piece and spout off at the mouth, now it's my turn. You've heard of the concept of sharing, haven't you? After all, you're the one bitching and moaning about what's fair."

And where Zoisite is speechless with fury, Nephrite's numb with shock, because again, what the fuck is happening here? What the fuck is going on? Yeah, they've had these tit for tat arguments going on for a while now, he and Zoi itching for freedom, Jadeite and Kunzite urging them to slow their roll, but it's never heated up like this. Before this moment right here, he's never heard a word harsher than  _ heck _ leave Jadeite's lips. 

And in their silence, Jadeite keeps going, his words rolling in like the tide come to reclaim lost ground, hitting a fever pitch. He circles around Nephrite, facing them both. 

"You want to talk about self-loathing? You want to talk about punishment? You know how spoiled you sound, how entitled you are? Let's break it down from the beginning." He lifts one finger. "First you sit here and whine about how long it's been since we last saw the sun, how much better we deserve, but we don't deserve  _ shit _ . The only way we can exist out of this fucking void is if somebody gives it to us. Why does Mamoru owe us his time and energy? What has he done to deserve that - these are rhetorical questions, don't bother. He doesn't. He doesn't owe us anything. Forget the oaths and the broken promises and the murder, even if we hadn't done all of that, he wouldn't owe us anything. The fact that we thought he was the only one who could bring us out doesn't mean it's his job too. It means he's doing us a fucking favor."

He has to stop here, to breathe, and Nephrite realizes that he's stepped back, that he's put a little distance between them, and that in doing so he's pushed Zoisite back with him. When he twists his head to look back at Zoisite, he sees the same dumbfounded shock he has to have painted over his own face. 

"Second of all," Jadeite says, and he snaps to, turning to look at him and seeing another finger in the air. He isn't sure what it is, but something about that pissed off tone of voice has activated something in his hindbrain, and it's like he can't look away. 

"Second of all, this talking thing isn't a punishment. It's a  _ kindness _ , and I don't know how you managed to miss that when the rest of us saw it just fine! You were so busy picking a fight with the princess, did you miss the part where she was terrified of us? The part where Venus didn't kill us  _ only _ because she realized we couldn't do a fucking thing? You call me self-loathing, but that's just because you're obsessed with being a victim."

Nephrite hadn't been around when Vesuvius blew its top, but he can't imagine it was any more impressive than the way Zoisite just loses his absolute shit to have that said to him. 

He doesn't scream, of course not, he's Zoisite and a scream would be completely undignified - no, he just all out lunges, throws himself right at Jadeite and sends them both crashing to the ground. He bucks his head forward when he does it and there's a sickening crunch as Jadeite's nose snaps -

But the wound is healed by the time they're flat on the ground, gone like it was never there before blood has a chance to fall. That's the thing about fighting when you don't have a body - it doesn't matter how hard a hit you take when you know it isn't real.

And Jadeite doesn't just take it either, his arms go towards Zoisite's, grapple style, and he gets a leg around him so he can twist and  _ shove  _ until he's on top and able to slam that strawberry blonde head into the 'floor'. 

It doesn't matter, none of it matters, the fractures healing before they even finish spreading, but that's never stopped the violence before. 

(When they first ended up here, after the prince was safe and Beryl was dead and the world wasn't ending, Nephrite wrapped his hands around Zoisite's neck and squeezed until Jadeite and Kunzite managed to drag him away. It had barely left bruises, and Zoisite didn't have to breathe, but with the memory of drowning in his own blood on his mind and the phantom sensation of vines speared through his chest crackling through his form, it had felt good.

It hadn't been the only time they did it, either. There's nothing here but them and with the way their bodies changed and warped around them, jumping from age to age and experience to experience - who was to say they were even really there at all?)

Nephrite drops to his knees next to the brawling pair and grabs for their collars, ready to try using his bulk and brawn against them again since talking is only digging the whole deeper, but as he does so Zoisite finally finds his voice again. His fingers are digging into Jadeite's face, the nails cutting flesh.

"What do you want from me? Am I supposed to just be like you, and lay down my head and  _ hope _ that I'll see a scrap of something good sometime this century?" His voice breaks on the word, brittle. 

"I want you to wake up," Jadeite answers, unrelenting. He probably doesn't even feel the pain. He's been better than the rest of them at recognizing the rules world revolves around from the start. "I want you to quit acting like the world is out to get us when we're all just dealing with the cards we were dealt."

"What does that even mean you cryptic mother- "

"It means that hating myself for what I did doesn't change the fact that I did it, and neither does throwing all the blame at Beryl. It means that game you and Nephrite play, where the two of you guess how long it's been since Mamoru last called us up isn't funny. It means that saying it wasn't our fault doesn't change that fact that it was our faces and our bodies carrying out the plans and our minds making them up."

Nephrite had jerked when his name was mentioned, and since his hand was on Zoisite's collar, the result is he's managed to pull them apart. It doesn't feel like a victory. 

Jadeite sits up, rubbing his cheek. The marks from Zoisite's fingernails are already gone. He looks all of ten years old, the age he was when they found him, Endymion leading the way with silent Kunzite at his side, Nephrite bringing up the rear and demanding to know why they were taking a detour through the woods when the road to the capital was that way, only to shut up at the sight before him, an iced over lake in the middle of summer and a kid rolling a ball across the surface for a dog to catch, like it was normal. 

That kid had been happy though, and glimpse into the past or not, that isn't the case now. 

"Beryl's magic changed us and we have to live with the consequences and that isn't fair."

"It isn't," Zoisite insists, and when his voice breaks this time it's because his body is on the verge of puberty again, twelve or so and even smaller for it. 

Not as small as he should have been though, compared to Nephrite. He hadn't even noticed himself sliding through his own layers, aging down. His hands are tiny. He might not have even hit his double digits yet, and that makes sense. He feels small, useless. The emotions shit -  _ this  _ kind of emotions shit - this isn't the stuff he knows how to deal with. 

He isn't sure anyone out there knows how to deal with it. 

Zoisite continues, and they can't cry, they don't have tears because they don't drink water because they don't have bodies but he sure sounds like he might start up anyway. His voice is so damn young. "It isn't fair. We already have to remember it. We already lost so much time. We already have to see it, every time our souls slip up and remember who we used to be, what we used to be, and one of us ends up in that uniform all over again. Those people weren't who we are, but we're going to suffer for it, why should it be such an endless torture?"

"Because the only people who can help us are the people  _ we  _ hurt," Jadeite says, and he doesn't even sound all that angry anymore. "And if it isn't fair to us, imagine how it is to them. I still remember being that guy. I remember thinking it was so damn funny whenever Sailor Moon would start crying about one of my monsters, when those damned Sailor Senshi would panic over one. She was what, fourteen? Couldn't have been older than fifteen, she's still in high school. I was probably the first real monster she ever met."

His shoulders slump. His face falls. When he looks up at them, Nephrite can tell the rage has burned out. 

"We've got to live with what happened to us. And they've got to live with what we did to  _ them _ . I don't think fair is anywhere in that equa-"

The world starts to go bright around him. There's a yank around his middle. Nephrite swears, turning his head, because Jadeite and Zoisite are going hazy and this is not the -

* * *

Nephrite materializes in a blur of color and motion, the maroon stone in Mamoru's hand gleaming with power. He's not dressed in uniform this time, but from the back at least, his white shirt and maroon pants still look out of place. His back is facing them and as Makoto watches he seems to freeze in place, twisting his neck from side to side almost frantically. His long hair bounces with the gesture. 

Is he looking for something? 

Makoto isn't sure - and by the startled look on Mamoru's face, maybe he isn't either. It's definitely not what they expected, when she asked if he'd mind calling him, since it didn't seem like Ami and Usagi were going to come by after all.

She's never met him, not face to face on a personal level. He'd died before her time, by just a couple of weeks. It had seemed like a good option at the time - he'd seemed calm last night, almost approachable. And Mamoru had made him sound… fun. Like someone who could make a good friend. 

But right now, he looks, if not scared, then at least nervous, and that doesn't sit well with her.

"Nephrite?"

At the sound of his name, his head snaps in her direction, fast enough that she winces in automatic sympathy pain. 

"Oh sh- jeez," he says, stumbling over the words, "Sorry, we were kinda in the middle of something and I wasn't expecting to - I didn't make it up that I was going to talk to the princess, did I?"

She wonders how often he curses that it was that much of a reflex, and then she bites her lip to hide a smile. It shouldn't be funny, she didn't usually find vulgarity funny when it wasn't from her friends, but he's too obviously off-put for it to be anything less than absolutely entertaining. 

"You didn't," she reassures him, at the same time that Mamoru says, "She had to reschedule."

They both pause and look at each other, and have to laugh. She lets Mamoru take the lead, watching with interest as relief fills Nephrite's face. His whole body seems to loosen up, broad shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. 

He really is scared of Usagi. She was sure Mamoru was teasing when he said that, but, here's the proof right here. 

"Usako called me a little while ago. Something came up, and she, Rei, and Ami will come by tomorrow, if that's alright with you. Makoto-chan and I thought you might enjoy talking to her?" Mamoru offers the explanation quickly, but not hastily. She's seen him flustered, and this isn't that - it's just that he's obviously a little distracted, so the words come quickly. 

Nephrite's relaxed now, his face smoothed over, but the obvious confusion - maybe even distress - clear at his arrival isn't something she's forgotten. The same is obviously true for Mamoru, who still looks faintly concerned. 

But Nephrite just grins, his face brightening with easy cheer. His voice is considerably steadier (and warmer) when he says, "You thought right. It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Makoto-san. I hope you can forgive my appearance - still haven't figured out how to make it give me my Monday best."

The thing is, in Makoto's opinion, he isn't badly dressed. There's no uniform, Dark Kingdom or otherwise, and no three-piece suit either - instead he's wearing what has to be a costume of some sort - a billowy white blouse with a high neck, unlaced to reveal more than a little bit of chest, with loose, full sleeves drawn into a bell shape at the wrist by a pair of ties. The waist of the shirt couldn't be seen, tucked into a pair of high waisted maroon pants dotted with burnished buttons. 

Definitely not badly dressed. Unusual, but not bad. 

If it takes a bit of effort to keep her eyes from straying to the (not insignificant) patch of chest bare near his throat, at least her cheeks don't betray her with a blush. 

"It's nice to meet you too, Nephrite-san," she says instead, and before she can think better of it, adds, "I've seen guys look a lot worse than this - don't worry about it."

This time, her cheeks  _ do _ betray her - the faintest heat touches her face once she considers how that might sound - but she bows anyway, a quick greeting, and the only off-putting moment is when he offers his hand halfway through, and they end up staring at each other, she at his hand, he at her bow, until Mamoru softly clears his throat and they sort themselves out.

"Thanks for that," Nephrite withdraws his hand and bows, lower than she had. "And sorry, I don't know why the handshake seemed like the right thing to do -"

"It's fine, really! I should have thought about it." but, could have she?

"Nah, you had no way of guessing I'd do that. I didn't even guess I'd do it and I'm literally me?" 

"It was the American in you," Mamoru deadpans, "It must have jumped out. But before we get any further, why don't we take a seat in the -" she can literally see the exact moment when it occurs to him that they had all, essentially, voted on the fates of the Shitennou in the living room and therefore it might be an awkward spot. "Kitchen?"

"Sounds good to me," Nephrite shrugs. Whatever was going on in the place the Shitennou existed in when they weren't here, he seemed to be putting it aside pretty well - his voice was steadier, confident. 

And she didn't think she'd bring it up - Mamoru would, as soon as she was gone, she was sure, but she doesn't know Nephrite well enough to ask and Mamoru knows it and would never put either of them on the spot like that. 

So they walk from the balcony-side table where the stones had been set (where Minako had carefully left the box after she had picked up Kunzite and proceeded to climb from the balcony to the roof) and settle at the kitchen table - this time they swap seats, so Mamoru sits by the door, while she sits further inside. Nephrite takes the chair between the two, and it's strange because his body almost blurs where it touches the chair - she realizes he's sinking into it and then rising out, almost imperceptibly. 

Is he doing that on purpose - something as simple as sitting in a chair a task he has to actively focus on?

"So…?" Nephrite says, drawing her attention - well, away from him, to him?

Makoto shakes her head, once, quick, just to orient herself. "Sorry?"

She must have missed something. 

"No, I just - what did you want to talk about? Hate to admit it, but all of a sudden my head's an empty bowl - don't even think about it, Mamoru." His friendly-ish grin is quick to become a teasing scowl - a translucent finger is raised towards Mamoru's face and quickly waggled. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mamoru replies, face perfectly smooth, and Makoto stifles a laugh. It's so fake but the bonds of friendship and adopted siblinghood require that she pretend nothing is amiss.

"Uh huh," Nephrite says skeptically, looking between the two of them. "I'm believing that, yeah."

"Because it's the truth," Mamoru affirms, and Makoto nods, lips pursed so she doesn't laugh. Her throat is tickling with the effort to keep it in. 

"That is what you're saying, Mamorin," Nephrite agrees, and this time it's Mamoru's turn to make a face, his eyebrows rising up, his eyes popping wide. 

"Mamo-what?" 

But Nephrite is deliberately turning towards Makoto now, and though the inside of her mouth is starting to ache from hiding her smiles, she acts like she heard nothing. 

"So, as I was saying before a certain someone's face journey interrupted me, I'm not totally sure what you'd want to talk about. I haven't been up to much of anything lately, but how about you?"

That's a good question, actually, and she takes a moment to think about it. She's been gardening more, lately, trying her hand at growing her own fresh herbs to cut down on the shopping she has to do. It's been an experience, and not always successful…

"But my green onions are growing well, and the cilantro is recovering, so I'm excited for late summer," she concludes, a few minutes and several questions later. 

A question or two had come from Mamoru, who was a self-professed plant killer still hoping to reverse course, but most of them had come from Nephrite, and she's genuinely surprised with his interest. 

"I didn't think you'd be so interested in gardening," she comments, hoping to draw him further into the conversation - she's been talking more than he has, and while the interest has honestly been a little flattering, she  _ is _ supposed to be learning about him too. 

"Honestly, I'm not a big flower guy and plants aren't always great," a frown comes to his face but it's there and gone again in seconds, "But I love to eat. Loved, I guess, but -  _ food _ . Seriously, the best part of life has to be eating food and growing your own ingredients has to make the food taste better. It's the sunk cost fallacy on action."

"That means the exact opposite of what you meant," Mamoru points out, and Nephrite flaps a translucent arm at him, his sleeve billowing. 

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, but Makoto is thinking. Not about sunk cost fallacies, but about food, and the avenue for questions it opens. 

"What's the best thing you've ever eaten?" She asks, and Nephrite pauses, cocking his head. She doesn't think it's likely to be a touchy subject, so maybe that wasn't a direct enough question? Even if he can't eat now, he clearly likes food enough to talk about it, and it's at least something they have in common. "You've been all over the world, haven't you? You must have eaten amazing things."

“You mean like, the best thing ever as in, just one? Because you have to know that’s not fair -” he falters for a second there, and Makoto frowns, ready to ask what’s wrong, but then he just shakes his head and throws out his arms, lifting them as if to the heavens. “I’ve lived to eat, and so much of it was amazing. I’m talking  _ awe-inspiring _ , I mean food that was so good you’d slap your mama for another bite, dishes that could bring tears to your eyes - “   


“Go for a top five then,” Mamoru interrupts. He must have gotten over his shock, and now he’s shaking his head, his lips quirked into a smile. “Quit hamming it up and tell us about this amazing food.”

“What about the top five in North America?” Makoto specifies, thinking of foods she’s seen in movies and wondered about. “Is that specific enough for you?”

“Not really,” Nephrite says bluntly, but then quickly follows up with, “Do you want to know the best thing I ever ate in North America, or the best North American foods I ever ate, because trust me, in a place like New York City or Los Angeles, there’s a difference.”

And that’s a legitimate question, one that Makoto hadn’t considered. Half the fun of the challenge is hearing someone struggle with figuring out what’s best, but on the other hand, when you’ve got to pick one thing between two continents…   
  
Alright, she’ll throw him a bone. 

“The five best North American foods you ever hate,” she decides, eyeing the way he relaxes and deciding she may be being a bit too nice. Come on! This is her chance to learn more about him - and about food. “ _ And _ the weirdest thing too.”

Nephrite’s jaw drops. His brief air of triumph completely dissolves. Mamoru reaches out and gives her a high five, grinning. 

“The weirdest thing I ever ate  _ in America _ ? Do you know how many weird things they eat in America?” Nephrite demands. He puts both hands on the table as he rises out of his seat, and they sink through to his forearms. 

He doesn’t seem to notice, but Mamoru snorts trying to stifle his laughter, and Makoto just laughs openly. “Nope! But I’m about to know the weirdest of them all.”

“I can’t believe - fine! Alright, I’ll find a way to, somehow, narrow it down. You’re killing me. You’re both killing me.”

But his tone is light and relaxed and Makoto can’t deny that Mamoru was right - that Nephrite  _ is  _ funny, that he is more than just the man who was one of the Dark Kingdom’s generals. This is more fun than she ever thought it would be. 

“Okay, so as ridiculous as it is to try and pick the five best things to eat from an entire  _ continent _ of options, barbeque ribs are definitely in my top five list, but no, I am not picking just one kind. I liked them all - the thick saucy ones in East Texas and the slow-cooked dry-rubbed ones in Memphis and the spare ribs in Kentucky made everything else that happened in that state worth it. And it’s true what they say, in America bigger is better, because you have not lived until someone has put an entire rack of ribs in front of you and said ‘eat up’.”

He sighs dreamily, looking somewhere between Makoto and Mamoru. Probably not even actually at that spot in the wall, but at the food in his memory. She can’t blame him - never mind the tea and snacks she’d just finished, suddenly, she’s hungry. 

“You can’t have eaten all of that,” she says skeptically, but Nephrite just laughs. 

“I can and I did, and it was so worth it. I couldn’t move for two hours after, and I had to teleport just to get out of the restaurant, but I ate every last bite.”

“That sounds excessive,” Mamoru points out. 

“It was  _ necessary _ . That wasn’t the only thing either - a lot of the places I ate at had big serving sizes, you’re supposed to be able to take food home when you order out, but, no, I just  _ ate _ and it was beautiful."

"For someone who said you couldn't pick just one answer you're spending a lot of time on just one answer," Makoto notices, mostly because it distracts from how she just cannot fathom being served an entire rack of ribs without imagining some hideous price tag stuck to it. But teasing? That's something she can do. 

And Nephrite rises to the occasion, launching into a defense of key lime pie so passionate that Makoto can't bring herself to explain that she's never  _ tried _ key lime pie. 

An hour passes like this, discussing food and then travels, Nephrite sharing stories and anecdotes about his time in the Americas, Mamoru lightly discussing the trips he'd made to Harvard when he decided to study abroad there. Makoto shares her stories of trips to the Moon, hesitant at first, but Nephrite doesn't flinch, doesn't shut down. He asks questions about what she saw, and tells her that she's the one who's travelled the farthest. 

Behind them, the sun begins to dip behind the Tokyo skyline, buildings and complexes caught in sharp relief. They don't notice, until a lull in conversation brings Mamoru and Makoto to the realization that their mouths are quite dry, actually, and they'd like a drink. 

"I'll heat up some tea," Makoto offers, and walks to the stove before Mamoru can offer up any nonsense about her being his guest and please let him do it. 

The tea pot is filled with water and set to boil. The tea itself is stored in loose leaf form in cabinets beside the stove - low cabinets, which Makoto is sure is more for Usagi's benefit than Mamoru's. She smiles at the sight, filling tea ball strainers with the appropriate blends. 

It's good to have something to do with her hands after so much talking. It feels like a dream, that time could be going by this quickly, and with one of them, of all people. 

But Mamoru was right, she's more than willing to admit. When she doesn't think of Nephrite as a part of the Dark Kingdom, when she considers him as just a man, it's easy to see why Mamoru would want that man as a friend. 

Funny, charming, easy to get along with -

Honestly, she can see herself being friends with him. She doesn't doubt that the rest of the Shitennou will be just as different from him as she is her from her girls, but who knows? Maybe she'll be able to make friends with all of them. 

Tea ball strainers are placed into waiting mugs, and Makoto leans back against the cabinets and considers the idea. This had been the point of talking, right? To get to know their counterparts, their former enemies, and make it easier for them all to have fun at the beach. This is the goal.

"Guess I just didn't expect it to be so easy," she murmurs to herself, glancing towards the table where Mamoru and Nephrite wait. They're talking in low, quiet voices, and she nods to herself briefly. 

She knows Nephrite well enough now that she's sure she'll be able to have fun at the beach. But does she know him well enough to agree to Usagi's proposal?

Again, she looks to the pair. When she pays attention, she can see that Nephrite still bobs in the chair, dipping below and into the wood grain and back out again as he sits, forcing his body to feign normality. It's a cruel thing, she can admit. Both his fate and the fact that it depends on their choices. It's easier for her to make friends with Nephrite, to joke with him - she wasn't there when he was an active threat, she didn't and still doesn't know Naru well enough to have ever been a comfort to her after Masato Sanjouin's death. 

But maybe she can correct some of that. 

On the stove, the kettle begins to whistle as the water reaches a boil and Makoto grabs it, carefully pouring water into both mugs. She sets them on a tray and carries them to the table, drinks for two at a party of three. 

Is this what it's like for Mamoru, every time he sees them? Constant reminders of difference, of the divide between the living and the not?

"Thank you for the tea, Mako-chan," Mamoru says, reaching for his. It's too hot, of course, but just the act of warming one's hands with a cup of tea is comforting. 

"You're welcome," Makoto responds automatically, thoughts still on her decision. The conversation has flowed so smoothly that she hates to disrupt the evening, but. Her tone is distracted enough that both Mamoru and Nephrite exchange a glance without her notice. 

She draws a deep breath, something her two companions are quick to notice. Wrapping her hands around her own steaming mug, she finally says the words that have rattled in her mind all along, asks the question she's accepted she must have an answer to.

"Nephrite-san, would you tell me… why you joined the Dark Kingdom?"

The man in question flinches, just slightly, head twitching to one side, eyes dropping. His whole countenance changes for a moment, and Makoto watches and waits and Mamoru sitting an angle to them both, watches and waits. 

"There's a short answer and a long answer," Nephrite says finally. Strands of his hair slip over his shoulder as he dips head. "Which do you want to hear?"

It's barely even a question. 

"The long answer. If you don't mind."

He surprises her with, "I do. But you deserve to hear it, if you want, and Mamoru… you've heard this story, so I'll try to add in things… I haven't mentioned before."

"Right," Mamoru says, more of an acknowledgement than anything, and Makoto wonders briefly if it's because thank you feels almost wrong in this context.

"The easiest place to start is the beginning, so let's focus on that," Nephrite's whole body language changes as he says the words. His shoulders straighten under the loose fabric of his blouse, his head lifts. One eye is covered with locks of hair, and he brushes the escaped waves behind an ear. "For me, it started with the stars. I didn't have my ear to the ground like Zoisite, I wasn't catching the gossip with Jadeite, I definitely wasn't studying movements like Kunzite. For me, I first learned about Beryl and what she'd become from the stars.”

"I asked them, as I always did, what was coming. What should I be prepared for. What dangers were lurking. And the stars are vague. They're older than this planet, some of them older than this galaxy. They don't think like we do, in cause and effect and motivation and all those big details. They aren't bound to just the past, but they have so much wisdom from it. They told me, essentially, in the barest bones way I can put it, pardon my language, that shit was fucked."

It's funny, but it's not, the way the cursing makes everything seem so much worse but - Makoto doesn't hear cursing often. It's rude, crude language, for one, and for another, most of the people she surrounds herself with don’t do it. So she's sure her eyes are wide. 

"They said, if things kept going the way they were going, the end of things would come. The end of our planet, which they didn't see as something bad, but as something coming. Stars die. They consume planets as they implode and collapse themselves into something hotter and stronger than before, but they also liked me and figured maybe I'd want to know. And me, hearing that - I tried to think about the way things were going. I wasn't keeping my ear to the ground, and everything was happening, a whirlwind of changes because the rumors about Endymion and Serenity were growing."

"Rumors?" Makoto asks, and Nephrite sighs. 

"Yeah. Even I was hearing about those. We'd kept their secret as long as we could, all of us, but it was starting to come out. The palace gardens were trafficked, even at night. Even with us watching him and you watching her. People started to notice. They told their friends. And rumors about the Moon annexing the Earth were starting to spread."

"Rumors that I couldn't quell," Mamoru says, chagrinned. "I remember that much."

"Dude," Nephrite shakes his head, "I don't think it would have mattered. People had it in their heads what was going to happen, and I - I mean I wasn't much better. I thought that must be what the stars meant. That the unification between Endymion and Serenity would probably be the end of everything. I tried to tell him that, but I was uh, not persuasive. Probably would have helped if I'd been less of a dick."

Makoto can feel her eyebrows crawling up her forehead. She wants to urge him on, but he's getting there. And the background is…

"But the end result was, I was pissed at him for not seeing it, and he was pissed at me for going on something so vague, and we were frustrated. And then Beryl was there, and we got to talk -"

"She was just there?" Makoto interrupts - she can't help it. How did - "Why didn't anyone care?"

"Because she was a servant in the palace," Nephrite responds bluntly and her whole world is rocked. 

"What?"

"Yeah, it's hard to believe, huh? Especially after she got eight feet tall and spiky, but she started out as a servant. She was a maid assigned to our wing of the palace, and she was always around. At the time, I didn't think twice about it." Another sigh, frustrated more than anything. His brow furrows. 

"The thing about hindsight is it's twenty-twenty, always. When I look back on it now, I can tell that's the moment she got me, because even though I told her that I wasn't about to shit up my friend's life over my doubts - I couldn't stop thinking about those doubts, after. I couldn't stop thinking about how much we didn't know. How fast this was all happening - a royal engagement, carried out in secret, decided after just two years of clandestine meetings? The fate of our worlds in the balance? It didn't seem right. It felt off. And it came to me out of nowhere, this idea that Serenity was doing it. That she'd whammied Endy."

Makoto sits bolt right, nearly spilling her tea. Her hand presses flat against the table as she snaps, "Serenity would have never -"

"I know."

The wind rushes out of her sails. "What?"

"I know. That she wouldn't, I mean, she's a kid - as a kid, an innocent little thing, but nobody knew anything about the  _ Queen _ Serenity, and that's where my head was, and it didn't sound crazy then. But that's what I mean. I don't know how much it was me being freaked and Beryl being in my head - because oh boy was that witch in our heads, already tugging on our doubts and twisting our fears - but that's what I thought then. And once I thought it, it was just a hop, skip, and a jump from being convinced of it. I joined Beryl and I fought Endymion, and it wasn't until I  _ died  _ that I was finally able to see how fucking stupid I was being."

Mamoru breaks the quiet. His fingers tap, tap, tapping absently against the table. "It was foolish," he agrees, in a tone that says 'as I've said before', "But you weren't stupid. You were being manipulated and I didn't see it at all."

"Were you supposed to?" Nephrite asks, "You always try to put some of it on you, but Mamoru. There was nothing Endymion could have done. I mean, maybe there was, but there wasn't, because it's over with. Those other maybes don't matter. I did what I did because I was scared and confused and I lost faith, and yeah, all of that was easier to make happen because a witch was in my head, and I hate it. I wish I could go back and punch myself and see how stupid I sounded. But I didn't and the whole planet - the whole galaxy - paid the price."

He drags a hand through his hair, the translucent strands sweeping through his fingers. 

"And then sometime after I died, I was born again. I don't remember any of it. I definitely don't remember when and why I wore this outfit, but I guess whoever I was had unique taste."

"You mean you were reborn as a human, like we were?" Somehow this idea had never occurred to her. It seems silly to say it out loud but - with the Shitennou's eyes, and their powers, and the monsters they made that always looked so human until they weren't - 

She hadn't even realized it until this moment, that a part of her had thought they were youma too, just like their forces. 

"Okay, I deserved that," Nephrite mutters quietly. His smile is more of a grimace. "You all thought we were youma, didn't you?"

Makoto's cheeks pink. "I can't speak for all of us…?"

"That's fair. We were human, before. We were - looking for our prince, as best as we can tell, the memories coming back, but instead, she found us. And it turned out, whatever she did to us back then, it was still in play. I don't even remember my real name - Masato Sanjouin was just an alias."

"We could try to find you, though," Mamoru says firmly. "I know it's going to be hard finding four men from a globe of options but -"

"Yeah, I know. I still don't know if it's a good idea. I mean, it would be cool but.. I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea. I mean, that was years ago and I bet I'm legally dead, by this point. And literally."

"But - what if you have a family?" Makoto's chest clenches. Her heart races. Doesn't he - doesn't he want to  _ know _ ?

"Then they probably think I'm dead too. And I don't know if knowing is worth putting them through it. It's been like, at least seven years probably -"

"Seven?" It had only been three and a half since the Dark Kingdom. Had Beryl - how long were they active, before they all awoke?

"Yeah. Maybe longer, but definitely at least that long, with how much time I remember roaming the world and getting things done for 'our great ruler'." He rolls his eyes at that, obviously trying for levity. "But that's it. I joined because I was worried, and an idiot, and then when I had a chance to try again, it turned out all those same strings were still attached. It made sense when I was there. I didn't… it wasn't…"

He trails off with a frustrated grunt, his shoulders curling in, his body hunched. 

"Look. I'm - sorry. For all the shit I pulled. Just because it made sense and I wasn't all there, that doesn't make it alright. You shouldn't have even had to ask me to tell you, I probably should have coughed it up first. I did a lot of fucked up things when I was in that place, and -"

"I can't accept your apology for what you did," she says, hating to watch his face crumble. But she has to say that. Mamoru stirs, turning to her, but she doesn't look at him. "I mean, I didn't fight you. You didn't do anything to me. There's nothing I can forgive you for until and unless they do it first. But... I am glad you said it, and I believe you. I don't think the person the others told me about could have said something like that. And I'm glad you told me, so it doesn't matter that it's because I asked first. You still could have refused and you didn't."

His jaw hangs open. His eyes go wide. 

It's the most disarmed she's ever seen him. 

"You," he tries, and then stops, because he doesn't seem to have the words. 

Makoto smiles. "I hope we can try again. I think you'd make a good friend."

"That'd be… I think that's… that'd be super," Nephrite manages finally, and it's  _ cute _ . 

She promptly picks up her mug and drinks her tea to avoid that thought.

"Super?" Mamoru murmurs, nudging Nephrite with an elbow while she pretends she can't see or hear. "Really?"

"Shut up dude, I can't believe I haven't gotten a lightning punch to the face."

* * *

Makoto leaves not long after that, her mug placed in the sink and her bookbag thrown over her shoulder. She smiles at them both when she goes, and Mamoru has a feeling Nephrite's still stunned by the whole thing. 

He can't blame him, not when he feels it too. In all his wildest dreams he'd never really had faith that these two pieces of his life could have a chance of fitting together. And now here it is, starting to happen, two of his favorite people getting along - 

Maybe Usagi's idea will really work. 

"Hey, Mamorin," Nephrite says, and he has to work to keep a stupid grin off his face. If Nephrite figures out how much he likes that stupid nickname, he'll never stop. (Who says he has to stop?)

"What is it?" He asks, once he's sure his face is neutral, "And how long are you planning to keep that up?"

"Forever and a day, dude, at least. Somebody's got a tweak your nose or some shit. Mess with you. You know, like a bro," Nephrite explains with the voice of one imparting the wisdom of the ages. 

"Like a bro," Mamoru repeats, not quite succeeding in hiding a smile. 

"Yeah, exactly. You get me." And then his smile dies, or maybe that's too dramatic, but Mamoru doesn't know how to describe it. Nephrite sighs. "You really get me. And - ugh, I don't know how to be sincere and polite now that there's not a cute girl who could kill me here, so, I'm sorry dude. For all the shit we talked about before, but for - I don't know, pressuring you."

And Mamoru just, blinks, because he has no idea what Nephrite is talking about. 

"Pressuring me?" He asks, seeking elaboration, knowing he should probably use more words but too baffled to put the effort in. 

"Yeah, we were talking, the three of us, and, fuck. Okay. Look. I'm grateful as fuck that you give us any of your time and energy at all. You don't, you know, owe us that, but you give it to us anyway, and -"

"You don't have to apologize to me for being my friend," Mamoru says firmly. Now that he understands - no. "I spend my time with you because I want to, and I talk to you because I like to and - did I, do something to cause this?"

The question is sudden, his voice and face stricken as he worries, wondering if this sudden apology isn't so sudden, if his doubts - feeling petty and minute now - have been obvious.

"What? No, you've always been gracious as fuck, but me and Jade and Zoi were talking and shit got heated and Jade kinda pointed out that it's not like you  _ owe  _ us any of this, and I thought shit, maybe I've been a bigger dick than I thought."

"Impossible," Mamoru says on instinct, then winces. "Sorry, not the time -"

But Nephrite Snickers, "No, that was a good one -"

"I don't know what Jadeite was thinking, but trust me, I like talking to you all, hanging out with you all. I really value you as a friend, so," he can feel his face flushing.

"Aw fuck dude, you are so red right now," Nephrite points out mercilessly.

"Yes, thank you for pointing it out," he groans, "I'm trying to be sincere."

"I know. Me too. If I had a body I think I'd have hives right now, all these feelings in the air." 

"Well, keep holding on. There's one more thing I need to… Look. I don't want you to doubt that I enjoy hanging out with you guys. But I know… maybe I gave that impression. But that's not it," he swallows. 

Nephrite looks to him, all jokes falling away. "But there is something."

"I like hanging out with you all," he repeats, nodding slowly, reluctantly. "But I hate that it feels like I'm your jailer as much as I'm your friend."

There. He said it. He put it out there. 

He needs to breathe but he can't, watching Nephrite's face, hoping the truth wasn't a mistake -

But Nephrite just looks relieved. 

"Mamoru.  _ Fuck _ , dude. That's exactly it. I know we deserve what we got, even if I don't like it, but - I never thought you felt like a jailer, the way I feel like a prisoner. I didn't want to - I mean, what was saying something going to do besides rub it in, it's not like you haven't tried to help us get out of being the world's most obnoxious rock band, but -"

But there might be something. 

There could be a way out. 

The words are like coal burning through his tongue, aching to come out.

"I didn't want to say anything either. I didn't - I never wanted you all to feel guilty for wanting to be free - not even just around me, but free. I guess I just - worried it would seem -"

The balcony door scrapes open, the blinds rustling and bumping against each other and Mamoru's jaw clicks shut as he stands and moves for the living room, barely aware of Nephrite following -

It's Minako. Sailor Venus to be exact, but Minako, standing in the living room, a pale stone in her hand. Her expression is unreadable.

"Mi- " he starts, but she shakes her head. His questions die on his tongue. Are you alright? Is he? What happened on the roof?

Golden light gathers around Minako's form and then falls away like rain as she returns to her civilian form, Venus dissolving into sparkles and dust. 

"I'm done," she says, and she isn't even bothering to fake her usual energy, her usual exuberance, the mask of the ditzier than usual girl she wore around enemies absent entirely. 

The school uniform doesn't match her face, not today. She looks older than her years as she strides forward, the hand carrying Kunzite outstretched. 

"Here. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Minako-chan," he manages this time, twisting to look at her back as she strides for the exit - "Are you - "

"I'm fine, Mamoru-kun. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then she's gone, leaving Mamoru and Nephrite to stare down at the stone in his hand. 

"I have a feeling that didn't go as good for him as it did for me," Nephrite says slowly, in a tone of 'what the fuck'. "Should we… oh hell, he's going to be walking into a mess -"

"A mess?" Mamoru asks, drawn from one path of worried thoughts to another. 

"Yeah, shit. When you summoned me, Jade and Zoi were kinda on the brink of either killing each other or crying on each other, and - Mamoru. Dude. You're my friend, and it's not just because you're my prince and the guy who can let me out into the world for a while at a time. It's because you're cool. And I think we should talk about that, all five of us, but… and I can't believe I'm saying this… maybe tomorrow morning. I have a feeling none of those three are gonna be in any shape for it tonight."

Hearing  _ that _ , the last thing he wants to do is say yes, we can talk tomorrow. 

But Nephrite is probably right. Is definitely right. His own brain is full of so many thoughts and feelings, he probably can't handle anything else, especially with as keenly as he'll feel them, when it's all of them together…

He slumps his shoulders, nods his head. 

"Right. Tomorrow, then?"

And Nephrite looks at him, the longing in his eyes obvious, as it always is when the Shitennou have to go back to that place that they call the void -

And then he grins. He forces himself to smile, even with his eyes. 

"Tomorrow, dude. Get ready to break out in hives. There's gonna be so many feelings and shit."

Mamoru can't help but laugh, the sound exploding from his throat. 

"Yeah. There will be."

* * *

Night falls over Tokyo and brings peace and quiet along with the stars, activity around the city slowing, halting. It is too hot for even the ever-active nightlife of Minato-ku, the humid air enough to convince any and all that shelter, any shelter, is the wiser move by far. The Senshi are no different - each finishes their nightly tasks and soon after, each find themselves following the allure of sleep, racing thoughts fading into the surrealist nature of dreams. 

Each attempts to follow, anyway. 

In the darkness of her bedroom, Minako finds that the path to dreams evades her, and she envies Artemis for his deep slumber. Her guardian is curled atop the pillow beside her own, the tip of his tail tucked under his nose. His eyes are closed. His breathing is easy. 

It should be comforting, that sound, that presence, the unmistakable sound of life. That's why he sleeps there, so close that even in sleep she can hear his breathing, his dreaming movements, and know that the death waiting behind her eyes is only a memory. 

It isn't enough tonight. It isn't nearly enough. 

She stares up at the ceiling, lit by a dozen tacky little stars slapped to the surface, held up by ancient adhesives and a prayer. They glow green and blue, touched up by Ami so that the once faint glow is as vivid as a nightlight. It's enough that her eyes never have to adjust to the darkness, enough that if she were ever attacked in the night she wouldn't be at a disadvantage. 

But these stars can't protect her from her dreams and they can't protect her from her thoughts. And lying here isn't helping, not at all. 

She isn't sure that there's anything that would help. 

The thought comes to mind unbidden.  _ I don't have any regrets. _ Minako goes still in her bed. Her eyes flick to the door, closed and locked to keep out prying parents. She could sneak past their room. She's done it before, on too many nights to count. 

Would she even be awake? What if she was asleep? What if she got her grandfather? Minako didn't care if her own parents lost sleep - that was hardly the consequence she was worried about - but Rei fretted over her grandfather's health almost as often as she criticized his lifestyle. Surely, she wouldn't appreciate the call. Surely, she would be tired, frustrated, would tell Minako that this could have waited -

Her hand closes over the knob to her bedroom door. Her other undoes the lock. Her feet are silent over the floorboards, avoiding the two that creak with long practiced ease. She eases the door shut behind her, the better to keep anyone from noticing her absence. 

_ I loved you once _ . Why had she told him that, what had she expected? Had it helped at all? Did she feel any better?

The hem of her nightgown grazes her thighs as she slips down the stairs, one hand on the railing, the other worrying at a loose thread. 

She should go back to sleep. She should go back to planning, write out her dreams, right out her thoughts. She's never had a gift for prophecy, but why should she risk it? It could be more than restless dreams. It could be more than the ancient past. 

Her hand lifts the phone from its cradle, the other catching the cord before it can collide with the counter. Her protests, hollow and feeble as they are, fall away. She leans against the wall. She dials. 

It rings once, just once, before she answers. 

"Minako," Rei says, and she shivers, cradling the phone with both hands as if it could bring them closer together. Her eyes slip closed and her fingers catch on the coiled loops of the cord.

Suddenly (but is it though?) she doesn't know what to say. 

"Rei," but there's nothing to follow, no quippy dialogue, no battle ready command. She feels like a little girl lost, cast adrift. Her lips shape words she didn't intend to say. "You didn't come to Mamoru's place."

_ I didn't see you today.  _

It's stupid and childish and she wishes she could take it back immediately, wishes that she had never called, that she had had made up something, anything, even as silly and easily seen through as a homework question, rather than say that. Rather than be so exposed. 

But Rei says, "I missed you too," like it's the only possible response, like it's the obvious truth, the sun rises in the east, the waves come in with the tide, I missed you. 

Minako's shoulders shake, just a little. Her mouth trembles. It's alright. Here in the darkness, Rei's voice in her ear, it's alright. 

"I don't know what to do," she confesses, and it tastes like ashes on her tongue, like failure. "I know what Usagi wants, and I know what I should - what I  _ think  _ I should - do, but -"

"But what do you want to do?" Rei asks, and she draws in a long breath, and holds it. 

What does she want? What does  _ she  _ want? 

She knows what Venus wanted. What Venus wanted, drowning in her own blood, her wide eyes fixed on the princess she would never save, on the blood staining her white dress red, on the slick, wet gleam of her organs, opened to the eyes' prying gaze by her own hand. 

The sword hadn't been there anymore. Venus had taken it into her own hand, had shoved its heavy weight between Beryl's ribs and out her back and torn it away again, so that she could suffer and bleed into the dirt. 

It hadn't mattered. Nothing had mattered.

She had been too late. She had been  _ too late _ . 

She remembers it so well that she can taste the copper-iron of her blood in her mouth, behind her teeth. On the worst of nights she can still feel the phantom pain of the arrows piercing her lung, hear the screams in the distance as the Moon's people met their bitter end in a war they weren't prepared for. 

She hadn't seen him on the battlefield. She would have killed him if she had, Minako knows this because in Venus' dying moments she had longed to pay him kind, she had ached in her fury and her rage, love scorned and love betrayed. 

But Minako isn't Venus and all her memories and all her nightmares can't change that fact. 

She doesn't hate them with that passion. She hasn't watched her world burn to cinders, not yet. 

(Not ever, as long as there is breath in her body, not ever, she will not watch it again.)

So she has to think. She has to  _ consider _ . 

"To go on a date with you," her traitorous mouth says instead. "To worry about making it to our reservation on time and to see your face light up under the lights and to sing karaoke with you and to be  _ me _ with  _ you _ . To be alone together, just the two of us."

And she hears Rei swallow at the other end of the line, and she wonders if she's doing the same thing Minako is, if she's leaning against a wall, if she's cradling the phone in her arms, if she's looking to the ceiling for answers that no one has -

"There's so much ahead of us," she whispers into the dark, into this space where it's just the two of them. "We have what, six, seven years? When Chibiusa is born, we'll have a few months of peace for ourselves, and then you'll be Mars and I'll be Venus and I thought I was ready, but I'm not. I'm  _ not _ ."

"I'm not either," Rei confesses, and her voice wavers and then rises, a stubborn spark finally catching ignition. "We agreed not to tell anyone and I haven't, but I want to. Minako, I want to tell everyone, and you know I hate people, but I want to tell everyone I see - the people in the streets, the girls who trail after me at school,  _ Grandpa _ , I want to tell everyone. Because it's you. Because it's me. Because we're  _ us _ and I want to be us, together, until the stars burn out and Galaxy Cauldron runs empty."

"You do hate people," Minako agrees, her heart in her throat, her voice is so small. It's a stupid thing to say, but she feels overwhelmed, with love, with longing, a vessel set to overflow. "I - "

"You don't have to want it too," Rei says, and she is so gentle, she is so calm, that Minako knows that their friends would scarcely recognize her in this moment. She knows this is the Rei that exists behind her frustration and her anger, the Rei whose confidence isn't so much a front as a facet, the Rei who reached for her hand on the first night of Obon and said,  _ I want you to meet my mother. _

"I do," she says, before she can regret it, before she can rethink it. And it's true. And she finds that it's been true, that it's been true but she's never faced it, never looked deep into this knot that's become the cornerstone of her heart. The words come easy, when she realizes that. "Rei, I do. I don't know what we're going to do with this situation. I don't know what the right thing to do is. I know what's safe and I know what Usagi wants, but I do know that us, the two of us, like this, we're going to keep happening. Do you know why?"

"Because we're both too stubborn to let it end?" Rei asks, and though she says it like a joke, it's still a question. 

"That too," Minako laughs, and she has to press a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound, can feel her shoulders loosen, her smile grow. 

"Then why? And if you say something corny like because I - I love you - then I'll hang up, I swear I will."

Her voice catches on the words, those words they both feel but haven't exchanged, and Minako can imagine it, her face red, her lips pursed in a flustered pout, rolling her eyes to hide that she'd ever want such a thing. 

"Because we have the same goals, and we have the same drive. Because we both know that love and duty can be one and the same, and because I'd never ask you to change. And you'd never ask me to change. And yeah," she adds, as if it's an afterthought, her voice low and teasing, "Because I love you."

Rei sputters, her voice choked and stuttering, and she hangs up just as promised, but Minako holds the phone to her ear and listens to the dial tone and smiles and smiles and  _ smiles _ . 

Because choked and sputtered and mangled as the words had been, she'd still made out  _ I love you too _ .


	4. Gonna Rock and Roll You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amidst conflicted feelings, understanding can still arise.

The time for feelings can sometimes be described as any time, every time. After all, feelings did not care for petty matters like 'convenience' or 'getting enough sleep'. For Mamoru Chiba, the time for feelings is 'right now', which happens to be a Thursday morning at an hour better known as 'why am I awake o'clock. The nectar of the gods (colloquially known as coffee) is all that separates him from the masses of people, also awake this morning, who are mourning their lost sleep.

This is because Mamoru Chiba doesn't play games with feelings or caffeination (Mamoru Chiba does not guarantee that games will not be played with feelings or caffeination. All warnings apply). He has class in three hours and the second Juuban High School and T.A. Academy let out his home will be filled with other peoples' emotions -

So it only seems fair that he should make the time that works for him work for everyone. 

Besides - the Shitennou said they didn't sleep. That means he isn't  _ really _ waking them up early, it just feels like he is. 

He draws in a breath, reaching out for their box. He's in his kitchen, a pot of water being kept warm in case he decides to swap from coffee to tea. He doubts he will, but it feels good to at least pretend he isn't willing to drink so much coffee that he risks heart palpitations. 

The box is sitting on the kitchen table. The lights are on, the AC is on (because even at this hour it's hot and getting hotter) his coffeemaker is especially on -

It's said that the kitchen is the heart of the home. Mamoru's kitchen had gone for years without use, but that's changed, since Usako, since Chibiusa, since forging friendships with the Senshi. Still, there's been a certain ...sacredness about this space. The kitchen is the heart of his home, and opening his heart has never been easy. Yesterday, sitting at this table with Makoto and Nephrite, had been the first time he'd invited one of his guardians into his kitchen and it had felt as natural, as normal, as anything else. 

Just one more little barrier falling.

This, this meeting right now, this conversational Pandora's Box he's willing to open in sharing his heart, is his hope that they can get one step closer to being a real team, in the way that he's finally realizing they're real friends. 

No, they can't do everything he wishes they could. Yes, there are challenges. 

But Nephrite took the truth well, and apparently Jadeite and Zoisite are already trying to kill each other, so what does he have to lose?

Mamoru scoops the stones up, all four loosely gripped in his hands. At his touch, they start to glow.

The only way he'll lose out is if he keeps stalling. 

And now, the decision is out of his hands. The four Shitennou materialize around him, figures of light and color, as insubstantial as the breezeless sky, seen but not felt. Kunzite's outline appears first, but Jadeite's is the first to fill in, Nephrite the first to sit, sprawling himself across a chair. 

Zoisite is the first to speak. 

"Did you really call us at the crack of dawn?" He asks him, his tone disbelieving. "Aren't you the man always talking about the importance of sleep."

"Do you see the size of that mug?" Nephrite asks before Mamoru can respond. "If Mamorin's finished off even half of that thing he probably can't even think about the word tired, let alone feel it."

"Oh, it's empty," Jadeite reports from Mamoru's shoulder, and it's only long familiarity with the blond's personal space issues that prevent him from jumping out of his skin. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"None," Mamoru answers, rolling his eyes. "That's a fist. And my coffee and I are fine, so don't think you can convince me otherwise. We're gathered here today to talk about everyone's least favorite subject -"

"Math?" Jadeite asks doubtfully. 

"No," Zoisite answers, tone scornful. "Obviously he means the Senshi."

"Dude, that ones all you. Mamorin likes the Senshi," Nephrite dismisses. Mamoru is just. Going to sit back and wait on this for a second. .

"Well then what's  _ your _ suggestion?" Zoisite asks defensively. "I don't see you suggesting anything- "

"Can the three of you cease with your best impressions of a peanut gallery? We're here to talk about our feelings, and you're all just dragging it out."

Kunzite, of course. The only one willing to just acknowledge that there's no escaping this. Just what he'd been waiting for. 

There's something terribly, wonderfully amusing about hearing him of all people acknowledge it that tips Mamoru over the edge. 

He laughs, and he laughs more to see Zoisite cringe and Jadeite grimace and Nephrite grimly stare at the coffee in abject longing. Oh yes. 

"As usual, Kunzite's right," he says when he's finished laughing. On further consideration, he adds, "And Nephrite too, actually. Any trouble you all are having with the Senshi, I'm glad to help, but I can't offer a 'same'. I've gathered you all today so that we can talk about our other feelings."

Jadeite opens his mouth. 

Four sets of eyes look at him, Mamoru's included, and he frowns, and closes his mouth. 

It's a shame, because Mamoru is curious about what he was going to say (he has a feeling he'll be tracking him down later to ask), but given that his stare is the only one that  _ wasn't  _ outright censoring, it might be for the best. 

"When you say 'other feelings'," Zoisite says instead, the word somehow dripping in disdain despite his perfectly even tone of voice, "What exactly are we talking about with that? I think it's fair to say that between the five of us that could involve many different emotions."

"I mean all of them," Mamoru says, only partly because it's true. The real reason is because Zoisite's brow twitches to hear him say that, his whole face twitching in before he can contain himself. He has mercy though. He is not a pitiless man. "But mostly, I'm talking about our feelings for each other. Nephrite and I talked about this for a little while yesterday, actually -"

This time, three sets of eyes turn to Nephrite. They're like daggers, those eyes, firm and entirely unimpressed. Mamoru had wondered if he'd bother to prepare them for this. 

Now he has his answer. 

But unlike Jadeite, Nephrite is uncowed and unrepentant. He shrugs those broad shoulders, apparently unaware that they're clipping through the back of their kitchen chair he's settled himself across like a throne. "Yeah, he might have given me the heads up we were all about to find out if you can get a case of feelings hives without a body."

"And the thought just slipped your mind when you returned?" Kunzite asks dryly. 

"Nah. Just figured it'd be funnier this way."

Alright, Mamoru thinks to himself, it's time to get things back on track before he finds himself down a guardian. 

"As none of you are breaking out in hives, I think we can consider that myth busted," he interrupts, pointedly lifting his mug and drinking. He's made the coffee strong enough that just the knowledge that he's drinking it causes a placebo effect, leaves him feeling sharper, more awake. "So as I was saying, I talked about this with Nephrite yesterday, and…"

He trails off. This is really happening, he's realized. He's really opening his mouth to say this. 

The Shitennou watch, silently expectant. 

"And you should know that I don't feel - you shouldn't - Neph, if I break out in hives trying to get all of this out I'm going to dunk you in the toilet -"

"What?!" An outraged squawk that's almost drowned out by Zoisite's hurriedly stifled cackling. 

It's amusing enough, distracting enough, that it does the job. His throat loosens up. His tongue shapes the words before he can stifle himself again. 

"I don't want any of you to ever feel like you're putting me out or need to stop asking for my time. You're my  _ friends _ ."

"Oh shit," He hear Zoisite mutter in the near-silence that falls. No one else echoes the sentiment, but it's clear as day in their reactions - a deer in the headlights look of surprise on Jadeite's face, Nephrite's face turned away from them all so his expression can't be read, Kunzite staring at him. Just staring, the faint incline of his brow and the slight widening of his eyes all the indication of his surprise. 

"And I  _ mean _ that," Mamoru insists into their silence. "None of you are putting me out. I won't insult you by saying I understand where you're coming from, when I'm not and never have been entombed in stone, but I can guess that it's terrifying at best and mind-numbingly boring at worst. I don't blame you for wanting to be out of there as often as you can."

"But?" Jadeite asks, his tone mild, his face giving nothing away. 

Mamoru winces, unable to hide it - unwilling to hide it, not when this is the point - and says, leaning on bluntness and hoping it will work as he hopes it will, "But it sucks. For you and for me. And I didn't want to say anything because there isn't anything we can  _ do  _ about it, except that not saying anything doesn't change the fact that it's there. It just ensured that none of us were communicating with each other."

"Mamoru, know that I say this with as much love and gentleness as I can," Zoisite says then, as great a warning as any that Mamoru could ask for that he's not going to be gentle at all. "You still haven't said anything. Would you just spit it out so we can communicate with each other  _ now _ ?" 

"I'm with him," Jadeite concurrs, his steady gaze unwavering. "There's nothing you can say after a start like that that we'll reject, so just tell us. Your intentions can't have been to stop at 'it sucks'."

And then Kunzite says, "Mamoru."

Just that. But he looks at him with those serious eyes, and his face isn't stern but concerned, and more importantly, he's said his name. 

Over the course of these years, Kunzite has  _ never  _ said his name. It's always been a variation of prince. It's always been that slight distance between them.

Mamoru closes his eyes. Maybe it's cowardly, it he doesn't want to see their faces for this.

"I'm worried that I've made you all feel like a burden, because as much as I love being your friend, I can't deny that I've resented the fact that I'm your jailer and that there's no way for us to be equals, because none of you can even exist in the outside world without my permission."

There. He said it.

In more words than he'd used yesterday, and the thing is - the thing is, resent is a harsh word, with no positive connotations, but he's had to sit in his feelings all night and all morning and he's put words to the problem and that's the word. This is the problem. He's growing resentful of this aspect of their relationship and it's beginning to consume every aspect of their relationship. and knowing that it isn't fair or rational isn't helping him fight the frustration. 

And sharing… sharing isn't a solution, but it might take the sting out of the wound. 

There's been… no reaction. Not in words he can hear, anyway.

Mamoru opens an eye, just one, aware of his childishness and blaming it on the early morning and the coffee. 

The Shitennou haven't moved. Jadeite hasn't even changed expressions, the same mild and unassuming look painted on his face. Nephrite still turned away and Mamoru isn't surprised by that, not when he knew what was coming, not when he's the most allergic to feelings. He's just as unsurprised that Kunzite too is facing away, looking out the kitchen window with eyes as distant and pale as the moon. 

Only Zoisite speaks, and then only Zosite moves. 

"I knew I couldn't be the only one," he says, but there's no triumph in his voice, just a sort of mangled relief that Mamoru finds himself relating to, his heart leaping and stomach falling all at once. "Resenting you for having a life, resenting myself for being unsatisfied, hating this deathless death we've been forced to ensure -"

"Zoisite," Jadeite says, and just that. 

Zoisite turns to him, and his eyes don't glitter because he is not a man of flesh and he cannot cry, Mamoru remembers, but his voice shakes. "You were right and we aren't owed anything, but that doesn't stop me from  _ wanting _ . And I'm not wrong to want that anymore than he's wrong to resent me wanting that!"

No one protests. Maybe they're all too stunned. 

He carries on, turning towards Mamoru with a look of desperate pleading. "I understand. I  _ do _ . And you - you understand too, right? It's not that I don't want you to be happy, and I know you deserve to be, it's just -"

"It's hard to accept that it will never be us living that life," Nephrite finishes for him. He's lifted his head, though intangible locks still fall over his face. In stark contrast to Zoisite's desperate relief, he looks gutted, hollowed out. He lifts a hand to his face, as if reflexively hiding tears that aren't - and can't be - there. 

"We're dead. I know that. I  _ know _ that. Every second of this life hammers right home, you know? But we aren't dead enough, and we aren't alive enough either, and this half and half thing isn't working."

Mamoru's thoughts go to one place, and one place only, and his horror must show on his face because Nephrite is quick to notice and quicker to speak up. 

"That's not what I mean. Fuck, bad choice of words, I'm not going to ask you to kill me or anything like that, okay, so take a deep breath and calm down, you look like you just shat your pants."

"Would anyone have blamed me?" Mamoru asks weakly, but he is following that directive, taking a deep breath, holding it, pushing it back out. Again. Again. Until he doesn't feel like the world is a second away from shattering. 

"Not at all," Kunzite says, placing his hand in his. 

Literally, in his, but it works. The Shitennou can't be touched physically, but when they pass through him, Mamoru can feel them, the same way he can feel anyone else he touches. It's always been Kunzite who's been the first to initiate this contact, the first to welcome him into his heart, into his head. That welcome is here now, paired with a quiet regret that Mamoru does not chase, but merely feels in passing, like a bittersweet embrace.

From his other side, Nephrite does the same. Hand in hand. Heart in heart. 

His larger than life personality translates to a larger than life presence, and Nephrite's emotions are nowhere near as steady as Kunzite's - they burn bright as the stars and Mamoru feels it with him. His grief over a lifetime wasted, what memories remaining too tattered to be of use. His fear of the eternity stretching out before them, the thousand years future staring them in the face. His anger at the situation and at himself for not being able to accept it - everything that they had talked about yesterday and more. How much he wants to live and live and  _ live  _ -

Everything that Mamoru has felt, and more. 

When Kunzite draws back and Nephrite falls away, the imprint of those feelings remains in his heart. 

"I never said anything because the last thing I wanted was for you all to think I regretted your presence in my life. There's nothing I can do to  _ change  _ this. I can't fix this by myself, I can't give you new bodies, I can't even give you enough power to be able to summon yourself. All this time, I thought the best thing that I could do was at least keep my mouth shut, so that at least when you  _ were _ here, you were having a good time. We were having a good time. But that was -"

"Fake," Zoisite shakes his head. "As fake as our acceptance of the situation. We weren't communicating, we were all just doing what we thought everyone else needed."

"Or focusing so hard on the past that we failed to see what was right before our eyes," Kunzite adds quietly. When Mamoru looks up, into his eyes, he adds, "I owe you an apology."

It's a statement which Mamoru can only stare in response to, it being the last thing that he could have expected.

Kunzite takes that silence as the request to elaborate that it is, and continues.

"All this time that we five have been together, and all this time I've looked at you and seen the shadow of Endymion in your eyes. I've called you by his name and his title, as though your lost past means the two of you were one and the same. But you aren't. You are Mamoru Chiba, and once upon a time you lived a life as a man named Endymion, but that man is gone and you are not. I am sorry that I failed to acknowledge that, and you."

What… What can he even say to that? 

We can he  _ say _ to that? 

"Fuck," is what he says miserably, "I think I'm crying."

"You are," Zoisite points out helpfully. "Maybe you should switch to tea."

"At least it's not hives?" Nephrite offers weakly. 

"Mamoru," the concern in Kunzite's voice as he says his name again (thrice! the third time!) is not helping his sudden case of the water works. 

This isn't a usual thing for him. He's not a cryer. He's never  _ been _ a cryer, not really. He can think of maybe a double handful of times he's cried in the entire span of his life that he can remember, and that's including the scraps he still has of Endymion's life. 

But the sheer validation, the relief, the  _ acknowledgement _ , from these most critically important of people - 

Yeah. He's crying. 

A hand dips through the top of his head. The emotions that fill him - concern, worry, love enough to drown in, to be saved in - the stale taste of cynicism and mourning - are enough to pull him back from the worst of the tears. 

Jadeite slides his hand down, as if he could wipe away the tears. But he can't, of course. 

"Mamoru," he says quietly. "I think you should stay home. Skip class. We're here for  _ you _ . We've let this weigh on you for too long."

There's an urgency in his voice, a quiet insistent that matches the concern on his face, no longer blank, no longer neutral. 

"Alright," Mamoru agrees. "Alright. I'll stay home. Do you - let's hang out. It's been a long time since we spent a morning together."

Relief touches each of the four faces to him, and one by one, each of them nods. 

"Yeah," Zoisite and Nephrite echo, Zoisite pointedly swiping his hand through a mug of tea, Nephrite brushing his fallen hair out of his face. 

"Isn't there a movie you've been wanting to show us?" Kunzite asks. "Big Mayhem in Little Tokyo?"

Mamoru laughs. "Big Trouble in Little China," he corrects. "And that's right - I have been putting that off. Alright. Let me grab a tea ball, and I'll put the movie on."

* * *

Usagi pats down her skirt, straightening ruffled edges and wrinkles with a sigh. It isn't really the clothes she's sighing about - the mid-thigh length skirt and bright pink top make up one of 

her favorite outfits, the pink flats she usually wore with the combo sacrificed in favor of sandals not only out of respect to the heat - but also the destination. Usually, she would be jumping up and down to visit Mamochan, excited to see him and spend time with him, even if they were in a group setting. 

But usually, she wasn't visiting so she could talk to someone who wasn't Mamochan. Usually she wasn't visiting to talk to  _ Nephrite _ . 

And as much as she tries to convince herself that it will be just like talking to anyone else, she isn't really managing it. All she can think about is Naru. All she can think about is that awful night. All she can think about is how terrifying it had been, how tragic, how many nightmares she had had and how many nights Naru had called in the middle of the night, crying too hard to speak, her grief wringing her out to dry. 

They had stayed friends, but that had been the start of it, Usagi thinks. That had been the event that set their separation in motion. And maybe she can't entirely blame Nephrite for that. Maybe enough of it had been her own fault, her own failings, her own inability to balance her two lives, her own fear, her own grief, her own love -

But enough of it is still his fault for this to be difficult. For this to be hard. 

For the part of her that's still fourteen and crying out about how it isn't fair that all of this is her responsibility to say without reservation,  _ I hate you.  _

It's an ugly thing to think, to feel, and when she looks into the mirror, she feels like it should show. Like she should be able to look into the mirror and see it written there, 'Usagi Tsukino doesn't really want Mamoru Chiba happy, refuses to accept guardian'. But it isn't, of course. It doesn't show on her face, or her clothes, and if she transformed it wouldn't show on her fuku either. 

It's just in her heart that it's written, and she hopes that by the end of the day she can erase it. She hopes by the end of the day, somehow, someway, she'll like him. 

But she finds herself doubting that, as she fixes her hair buns one last time and turns from the mirror. Some things, even time couldn't change. 

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Ami-chan?" A voice tuts from behind her, and Usagi jumps. She had completely forgotten about Luna, and by the look on her guardian's face, she knows. 

"What? No, I still have -" She should still have half an hour! She should still have -

Turning to her alarm clock, she points at it, willing her hand not to shake as she does so. She's almost afraid to check the time, afraid of what she'll see, considering her own track record. 

But fortune and time are smiling on her. The clock is on her side, for once, and she has been spared the abject humiliation of being late to meet with Nephrite. Just as she said, she still has half an hour to meet up with Ami, and it will only take her a good fifteen minutes to get there. 

And judging by Luna's quiet laughter, she knew that. Usagi scowls, turning her glower on her guardian cat, who offers not a contrite noise of apology but a giggle and a bared belly.

What's worse is that Usagi just accepts this, flopping back on her bed beside Luna (bouncing her, at least) and rubbing her belly. She is not at all surprised when Luna's paws immediately trap her hand. 

"I'm not even late, you jerk," she huffs, refusing to be (further) swayed. 

"You were thinking too much," Luna says in her 'I'm a wise guardian who served directly under your moon mother' voice. "I could see the smoke rising from your ears."

Usagi just huffs louder, refusing to verbally acknowledge the smear campaign being conducted in her own bedroom. Instead, she scritches at Luna's belly and is smugly satisfied when she is immediately rewarded with purring. 

"Mm, under my ribs," Luna orders, before tacking on, "You don't have to speak with him if you don't want to, you know."

"Oh yes I do. I am not seeing him for the first time again in a bikini."

"Didn't you already see him again for the first time?" It should not be possible for a cat to talk and purr at the same time, but considering that Usagi has seen much, much stranger… she kind of has to just accept that, just like she has to accept that that was a good point.

"That didn't count," she decides, and quickly makes up a rationale. "I didn't know I was going to see him, so I didn't get to choose. But I know he'll be at the beach, so if I don't see him today, that means the first time will be there."

Luna's skeptical noises are less than convincing when they're interspersed with purring. Usagi talks over her. 

"And if I ditch him again, he might think it's all on purpose. And then he might think I'm scared of him. And I'm  _ not _ scared of him, because for one thing he's just a rock and for another, he's just a ghost of a rock, and for  _ another _ , I've had haircuts scarier than him! So don't even try to say I'm actually scared, because - ow! Luna!"

The problem with cats is that they have  _ claws _ , and the cute little paws that cling to your hand while you scratch a belly can easily become the claws tapping on your skin. Ow might have been a little - a  _ little _ \- premature, considering her skin hasn't been broken yet, but maybe not. 

"I think," Luna begins patiently. Her claws are once again hidden amongst her glossy blue-black fur. "That you should make sure you know why you want to talk to him."

And then she rolls away from Usagi's hand, pops to her feet, and darts out the door before Usagi can manage to put words to her confused frustration. 

_ Ugh. Cats. _

But there's nothing for it. Luna's probably running off to Shingo's room, and there's no way she'll put up with  _ that _ brat any sooner than she has to. 

A glance at the clock tells her she's managed to kill five minutes playing around with Luna, and that if she wants to keep not being late, she's got to go. Well, that's fine. Of course she's going, and of course she knows why she wants to talk to him! She wants to get to know one of Mamochan's friends. She wants to be sure that they'll all have fun at the beach together. 

That's all. 

And she keeps thinking that, all the way through her walk, at every stop light she waits for, at every crosswalk she passes, at every familiar spot in the city where she fought a monster (over there, and there and there, and -), right through to the moment when she hears her name called out and sees Ami waving from the corner of a street running parallel to her. 

"Ami-chan!" She calls, and darts across the street after a quick glance at the traffic. It's not her light, but there's no one coming, so -

"Usagi-chan! That's not safe! You never know when a driver could decide to turn or a cyclist could decide to speed through, and you didn't even have the light! They could have done any of those things even if the light -"

The lecture lasts from the time they cross the street together to the time they enter the building together all the way through the time the elevator finally stops at their destination. 

It means that there isn't a single second of time left for any other kind of conversation, especially when Usagi's sheepish-grin-paired-with-head-scratch makes Ami's face flush and her cheeks puff for a new round of lectures just as Usagi goes knock-knock-knock on the door. It's not like Usagi planned that, or anything. It's just that luck is on her side, see?

Mamochan opens the door, of course, and he looks worried, which makes her want to worry, because she can't tell what level of worry it is and what kind of worry it is and if she should be worried about the worry and anyway, all of that just means that the first thing she says when she sees him is, "Mamochan, what's wrong?!"

Maybe a little loudly. 

But just a little.

"Nothing!" Mamochan is quick to say, stepping back and making space for them to enter the apartment. "I was just - well, I wasn't sure if you were coming, and I was a little worried Minako-chan  _ was _ ."

Huh?

Ami-chan is the one who manages to speak up though, stepping into the apartment and slipping out of her shoes. "Is there a reason you wouldn't want Minako-san to come by?"

And Mamochan looks a little sheepish. "It's not that I  _ don't _ want her to come by, it's just - well, Rei-san sort of took the roof already and maybe I'm paranoid but - one of them on the roof is one thing, but two of them and I'm pretty sure I'm not getting all of my guardians back."

Usagi gapes for a second, her jaw hanging open. 

"They wouldn't!" She insists the second she can find her voice again. "They would absolutely -"

"Actually, I could see that happening," Ami interjects, sounding more than a little sheepish herself. 

Usagi is aghast, completely disbelieving. "Ami-chan!"

To which Ami offers only a tiny little shrug. "I just think precautions are reasonable," she says gingerly. "Considering that I'm sure we all thought Rei-chan might burn the building down on Tuesday."

And well, there's not a lot that Usagi can say against that. 

Mamochan picks up on her trail, like a hammer nailing down the point. "It's not that I don't trust either of them, it's just that together, they kind of…push each other."

Which, okay… that's fair… but she still can't picture her friends killing Mamochan's friends. And if  _ he _ can, if he doesn't trust them like she does, why would he give them the chance?

"I still don't think they'd do anything  _ bad _ to them," she protests anyway, before tacking that thought on, "And if you think they would, why'd you let them up to the roof anyway?"

"Because Rei-san didn't burn down my apartment and Minako-san didn't whip out the Holy Sword on arrival?" He offers with a weak smile. As she frowns, he leans down to kiss her forehead, drawing a discrete glance away from Ami, who's never warmed up to public displays of affection. "They trusted me, so I have to trust them too. And I  _ do _ trust them, I just get a bit - nervous, sometimes. And I wouldn't be able to blame them for just  _ having  _ the impulse."

It's something to consider - maybe even a lot to consider, and she just stares at him, her cheeks faintly pink from the kiss, as he finally shuts the door behind them. For the first time she notices that he's wearing loose knit shorts and an equally loose threadbare t-shirt, loungewear of a sort she doesn't usually see him wear unless it's the weekend and he isn't planning on leaving the apartment. 

The gears in her brain start turning, focused on his back as he walks over to the balcony, opening the blinds so that the open screen door is visible. "I thought the balcony might make sense for the three of you," he says. "The open air should help make things feel a bit less cramped and hot, even if it's actually less room to move, and -"

"Did you skip class?" She asks abruptly, all the pieces fitting into a scandalous puzzle. 

Ami starts, looking at her and then back to Mamochan, and Usagi can see it in her face the first time she recognizes that oh yes, fashion can mean something. Surprise and concern flash across her face. 

"Ye...ssss?" Mamochan draws the word out - the surprise is much more obviously written on his face. "Was it that obvious?"

"Yes! Are you sure you're okay?"

"Were you not feeling well?" Ami echoes, her lips pursed. 

What's going on here? Mamochan's never skipped school, ever, and that's only gotten more serious since he made into into university. Well, except for when he was Endou, or in the future, or something like that, but not on a regular day! She's even known him to try and go in before his injuries are done healing - she's seen him do homework while his  _ ribs  _ were broken, like that even mattered at that point!

But Mamochan just laughs a little, not in a mean way, but more like he's remembered a joke, or something embarrassing. 

"I'm fine, really. I just - thought I had hives this morning, so I called out. But I'm fine -"

Has he ever met Usagi? Why does he think that's going to make her worry less?

"HIVES?" 

She rushes right over to him and starts poking and prodding at his cheeks and neck and exposed forearms, but despite her most concerned checks, she doesn't see anything.

"Usako, I'm fine, really!" But he doesn't actually stop her from checking him over, and that's what matters, isn't it? 

He's right though. She doesn't find a single spot or mark that looks like it could be a hive, and she sighs in relief at that fact. 

"You had me worried!" She scolds him, hands on her hips. 

"I did say I was fine, remember?" He points out, like that means anything from Mr. Gets-Hurt-and-Tries-to-Walk-it-Off. 

She doesn't say that though, because she's a good girlfriend and it's besides the point (for now). 

"You two are here to talk to Neph, right?" He asks, already digging a hand into his pocket. Before she can ask, he's holding out a maroon stone, and before she can move, Ami has reached out and claimed it. 

"Um?" She asks, as Ami hums in the back of her throat and turns over the stone in her hand. 

"It didn't react to my touch the way that they apparently reacted to yours," she says, already deep in science voice. This is Sign One. "No glow, no spontaneous generation of a holographic form - "

"Jadeite didn't appear to Rei right away either," Mamochan offers, and he has his contemplation face on. This is Sign Two. "But Minako transformed before she took Kunzite, and he appeared in a flash."

"That's just what I was about to ask. I wonder if it has something to do with the relative power level of our crystals - this is just a hypothesis of course, but I'm imagining that as your guardians, they're each naturally attuned to your Sailor energy, but can still react to our own when it reaches a certain threshold. It would be wonderful if the Outer Senshi were around, but their cruise isn't scheduled to arrive for another week."

"I have to admit I'm not nearly as disappointed about that, considering what Haruka-san would surely say. Still, you could be right - they used to appear whenever I touched them, but I've learned to control how much energy I put off, and-” 

Nerdy talk. This is Sign Three, and the situation is going critical. Usagi has to intervene. 

"As interesting as this all is, we don't know how long this is going to take, and my mama and papa are getting a little upset about me coming home late so often! Let's go ahead and start this conversation -!" She says, and yoinks the stone right out of Ami's hand. The second she touches it, it starts to glow, which nearly causes her to drop it. 

And then Nephrite appears, one of the sleeves torn off of his long-sleeved purple shirt, his grey uniform pants tucked into navy blue boots. There's a strip of orange fabric wound about his forearm. 

She drops it then, fingers gone numb with shock and Usagi doesn't notice who catches it, aware that both Ami and Mamochan have moved but unable to track them. Her eyes are fixed on the ghost in front of her, and the attire she had never expected to witness again. A part of her, gone distant and remote with the horror of it, thinks,  _ at least there's no blood.  _

"Usako," Mamochan calls out, voice full of concern, and her whole body jerks as she snaps out of it. She drags in first one huge breath and then another, and forces her limp hands to move, fingers curling into tight fists. It's not so much to look threatening as it is to feel them move, to be sure she's back in her own body.

She swallows, offering a distracted, "I'm fine."

And she looks up at him, from the chest-high view of him she has by default so that she can see his face. He's looking down at her too, and their eyes meet for a moment, blue to blue. She doesn't know how to read his expression, his widened blue eyes and his pinched shut mouth. Bowing would be the polite thing, an exchange of greeting, but, she just can't. He doesn't offer the gesture either. 

Usagi instead forces a smile to her lips, hoping it doesn't look as awkward and fake as it feels. "Hi?"

Nephrite is the first to break eye contact - he looks to the sides of her, a quick glance in the case of Ami's position, a long one towards Mamoru. She sees his throat work as he swallows. "Greetings, princess."

"Tsukino Usagi," she corrects, because she doesn't want to hear princess from him. Serenity's existence is still such a mystery to her, even now, that she cannot bring herself to claim that title. She's not a princess just a girl who will become a queen. Her smile twists, a little. She should tell him to call her Usagi, but -

"Tsukino-san," Nephrite says, and she would almost think he sounds relieved, except that she doesn't see what he has to be relieved about. She doesn't correct him. 

"Ami-chan and I wanted to talk to you today, since we couldn't make it yesterday. Are you still interested?"

Maybe he'll say no. 

"Of 'course." he says instead, and his lips quirk into a handsome smile. She's a little surprised by how much it makes her want to punch him, but only a little. Mako-chan said she thought he seemed alright. She clings to that idea as he looks to Ami. "Greetings to you as well, Ami-san. Is that alright, or do you have another name you'd rather I...?"

He trails off because Ami is already shaking her head. "Ami-san is fine. We were thinking that the balcony would work, for a bit of privacy?"

It's only because she's watching him so closely that Usagi sees the corners of his mouth twitch at that. 

"The balcony?" He repeats, and his nervousness - he is nervous, right, she's not seeing things? - it actually makes her feel a teeny bit better. At least she isn't the only one not going into this at a hundred percent. 

Her smile is a touch more real when she replies for Ami. "Rei-chan is already here, and Minako-chan might stop by again too. Taking the balcony now means we don't get shuffled around later."

And Mamochan adds, "It's less stuffy out there, too," which is true, but when she twists her head to look at him he has this weirdly intense expression on his face, and that helps too. Maybe they're all feeling weird over this.

Maybe that means she can lead the way. 

"Let's go," Usagi declares, louder and with more cheer than strictly necessary. She scoots around Nephrite and through the balcony doors, sighing in relief as she immediately steps into a breeze. In the summer, this is the best part of Mamochan's apartment, and Usagi claims her favorite lounge chair with no small sense of relief. At least something is normal. 

Nephrite follows, and Ami takes up the rear, leaning against the open sliding door. 

"So," Nephrite says after about a half a second, and then stops.

"So?" Ami asks encouragingly, and her face is set in a polite smile. 

But he doesn't say anything else, and the silence lasts forever (or maybe fifteen seconds? Same difference right?). 

"So!" Usagi claps, unable to handle the awkward silence. "Tell us about yourself!"

Nephrite's jaw works for a second, and then he's nodding, again and again and again and, "Right, right, yeah, of course, okay. So, uh, facts about me, are, I, like… dogs."

And then he doesn't say anything else, looking up at the sky instead. 

"Dogs," Well, she didn't expect him to say that, but, honestly… She can work with that. She can work with this! She can talk about dogs. "I like dogs too. Especially Akita, like Hachikō!"

Ami is giving her a look. She's ignoring it, because she doesn't see  _ Ami _ figuring out what to talk about. 

"What's a Hachikō?" Nephrite asks, sounding a little baffled. "Is that a kind of dog?"

And Usagi just gasps, because - well, mostly because this makes for a super convenient divergence away from anything that could possibly even a little bit serious - but  _ also _ because how could he not know about Hachikō? That just won't do!

"Hachikō is a specific dog," she explains, and then an even better idea occurs to her. "Actually, there's a movie about -"

"No," Ami interrupts. The look has evolved into a Look, and will not be ignored.

"There isn't a movie?" Nephrite asks, looking between them. He looks completely baffled. 

"There is a movie," Usagi confirms. She is far less confused, unfortunately. "Ami-chan - "

"We can't watch the movie because Mamoru-kun's television is broken," Ami continues, "It's a terrible shame."

Nephrite is frowning now, a hand brushing back some of his long hair. "We were watching it this morning though, so I think he must have got it fixed -"

But Ami just Looks at him. "It's a terrible shame that the television is broken and we can't watch the movie."

"... right! The TV is totally broken. We watched that movie on cable. That must have been it."

Usagi crosses her arms and turns on the full force of her pout. Ami is unaffected. She has been exposed to this sight so many times that she's built up an immunity. Obviously there's not going to be any relenting on that front, so there goes her brief hope for using a movie for easy bridge building. It would have worked too, she's positive about that. 

But maybe she can still salvage this. Maybe she can keep the conversation going, before the awkward silence sets, before the subject they're both avoiding comes up."Okay so, you like dogs, but have you ever had one? I haven't - my cat Luna would never put up with something like that."

"You have a cat?" Nephrite asks, before offering a small smile, "The palace had hunting dogs, way back when. They weren't exactly mine, but I used to spend time with them sometimes. I remember, once…"

And somehow, they manage to have a conversation that way. They exchange lighthearted stories and light-hearted facts. Usagi comes to learn that Nephrite's favorite animal is the owl, and that he likes burrowing ones. Usagi's never heard of a  _ burrowing  _ owl, so she refuses to believe him at first, and he spends several minutes describing the animal, its habitat, and behavior before she concedes that that does seem like an awful lot for someone to just make up. 

Nephrite learns that Usagi hates carrots, and earns himself a lecture when he asks, "But doesn't your name mean rabbit?" 

Eventually, Ami slips away, citing the bathroom, and doesn't end up coming back. Usagi would be pouting at her treachery if it weren't for the fact that things are going -

She doesn't want to say it's going well. They're both being too careful, or at least, she is, to say that. There are landmines everywhere, and they  _ do  _ trip over them, and there are more than a few moments where Usagi and Nephrite end up staring at each other in silence before one or the other comes up with something they can say. Her shoulders never quite relax, and his eyes rarely meet hers for more than a second.

And a part of her still lingers on what will happen next. Not on Saturday, but after. A part of her is still trying and failing to answer the question Rei had let fly like an arrow to strike at her defenses. What  _ is _ she going to tell Naru? She can't just hope that they'll never run into each other - that isn't how their collective luck works out. If Nephrite returns (and he will because they all will, the girls will agree with her, she knows they will), it's inevitable that he and Naru will meet.

Doesn't she owe it to her then, to give her some kind of a warning? But what can she say? 'Hey Naru-chan, do you want to grab lunch together? I know we haven't spent time together in a while but I thought you should know your villainous first love is back from the dead. What? Of course I don't mean Umino!'

That would go over well. Naru totally wouldn't have a heart attack or start crying or anything. How would she even begin to explain any of it, including how she knew Nephrite in the first place? She's never even mentioned the Sailor Moon thing and she'd kind of  _ have  _ to, and -

"Uh, Tsukino-san? You still in there?" Nephrite's voice asks, and Usagi jerks in her seat, eyes flying open. She hadn't even realized they'd closed. 

"What? I'm here! I mean - of course I'm here! I was just -" 

Nephrite is staring at her and Usagi's mind has drawn a total blank. What's a good excuse for this? What can she say? She can't figure it out, for a minute, two. 

He exhales too softly for her to qualify it a sigh, and runs a ghostly hand through equally ghostly hair. She can see the reflection of the sun through the glass behind him. "Look, I know it's definitely not my place, but I can tell you've been thinking about something for - well, a while. And as great a conversationalist as I am, I don't think you really came all this way just to get the boy band profile on my life. There's something you really want to know, so just - ask already. Uh, please?"

It's her turn to stare at him. Has she been that obvious about it? This whole time, has all of the small talk and conversation just been an obvious cover for her discomfort? 

Maybe that's why Ami left. She  _ hated _ small talk. Usagi should have remembered that. Usagi should have thought of that in the first place, and figured out something that they could actually talk about. 

But there's really only one thing she wants to say to Nephrite. There's really only one question she wants him to answer. And maybe she should have realized that he might be able to see through her, guessed that she might not be hiding it as well as she thought, but Usagi is  _ good _ at keeping things to herself when she wants to be, and she never thought Nephrite of all people would be perceptive enough to see through that. 

But she looks at him, her shoulders square, her mouth pinched in a grimace, and she finally asks the question that's been on her mind all week, that's lingered, remembered and then forgotten, for years now. 

"Did you ever care about Naru-chan?  _ Really  _ care about her, as a person, not just one of your things."

And Nephrite flinches as if he's been struck, jerking hard enough that his back slips through the bars of the balcony, and if he were a living man he would have surely fallen.

But he isn't a living man and he doesn't fall. He doesn't say anything either, and that's more frustrating to deal with. He just swallows, and Usagi's hands clench the arms of her chair, plastic digging into the sides of her hands. 

"Did you?" She asks again, insistent. He's the one who pushed. He's the one who told her to ask. 

"You really don't hold back," he says finally, a wheezing quality to his voice. There's an expression on his face that she can't really interpret. "I - that's a really complicated question, you know?"

"Is it?" Her own voice is unsympathetic, growing harsher even to her own ears. "Naru-chan cared about you. She loved you. She trusted  _ you _ . She cried for weeks after you died, so just tell me, did you ever care about her at all -"

"I did! I did," The words burst out of him, hanging in the air with the weight of confession. He's still looking at her with that strange expression, and she thinks she recognizes fear in his voice, regret. That's what it is, why she couldn't interpret it before - the last things she ever thought she'd see from  _ him _ . "I didn't always. I was - I was using her, in the beginning, and then, somehow, I just started caring about her. I didn't really care about anything, in the Dark Kingdom, I didn't give a damn about anything except getting my job done and getting the hell out of there, but she was so-”

He trails off, face set in a tight grimace.

"She was so?" Usagi prods, but the worst of the tension is seeping out of her, little by little. None of this is enough, but it's something. It's something she can start to understand, when it isn't her place to forgive. 

"I'm trying to like, figure out if there's a way to say it without sounding like a huge creep," Nephrite admits.

"There probably isn't. We were fourteen and you're like twenty-eight."

Nephrite doesn't have to breathe, so the fact that he chokes on air has to be more about surprise than anything else. 

"I am not twenty-eight!" He insists. "I'm like - fuck how old am I - I mean, uh,  _ fuck _ \- FRICK - "

He looks panicked. He  _ is  _ panicked, brushing his hands through his hair over and over again, looking about as stressed as Usagi's ever seen anyone look, and she's seen Ami study for entrance examples. 

It's not funny. 

It shouldn't be funny. 

_ It's really funny. _

Usagi starts to laugh, and once she starts she doesn't stop. She just laughs at his obvious horror and his panic and the way his voice broke when he screeched 'frick' like saying it louder would erase that he'd ever said anything stronger. She laughs at the fact that he feels the need to cover up his cursing, as if she's never heard such language. 

She laughs because she wonders if Naru ever saw this side of him, this awkward-not-at-all-charming side and if that's why she fell in love. 

And she covers her face, eyes burning, because even with her laughter and their conversation and this newborn feeling of understanding, she still can't let go and allow herself to like him.

"She was my best friend," she finds herself saying, explaining. "I tried to warn her, because I knew you were just using her. I knew you were just going to hurt her. And you  _ did _ ."

"I did," he agrees, and can't see Nephrite's face through her hands, but she can hear his voice, the wretched resignation there. "She was a kid. You were both kids, and that kind of thing didn't matter to me. I didn't think about if things were right or wrong - just if they would work and get Beryl off my back for a little while longer. But it was really… fucked up of me. Not my finest hour, at all."

Usagi doesn't say anything. She just listens. 

"So I don't blame you, you know. If you can't forgive me or even if you don't want to forgive me. The things I did aren't things you just get over, and honestly? I was sure you were going to kick the shit out of me, never mind that I'm a ghost. You're Sailor Moon. You'd find a way."

Her jaw drops. He thought she would beat him up? How could he think she would - well, maybe she thought about things like that, back then, but she would have never really! Unless he was evil, or hurting someone. But only then! She lowers her hands so she can look at him as she shakes her head. "You're one of Mamochan's friends -"

"Yeah, and I was the world's worst boyfriend. Not even a boyfriend! I was just a, creep," he deflates as he admits it. "I completely earned an ass-kicking. I'd like to start over, to you know, build on fresh ground, but the past happened and I can't just make it go away without being an even bigger creep, so if that means I stay out of your way, I mean, that's what I need to do."

Luna's words come back to her - not her teasing from earlier, but their conversation on Monday, which fees like so long ago. It's not your job to make everyone happy. Didn't she agree with her, that night, in that moment? 

She did. But it's so much harder to do than she thought. She wants to be friends with Mamochan's friends. She wants to love them like he does. He's friends with all of her friends, and she just wants to do the same for him. Admittedly, none of her friends had ever tried to kill him or destroy Tokyo or conquer the world, but -

Well, maybe that's the point. Maybe he's right. Maybe Luna's still right, and she just needs to get better at dealing with that. 

"I really wanted to be friends with you," she says, picking her words carefully. "I want to support Mamochan, and make sure that he has friends that he can have good times with it too. That's why I agreed with him that you guys should come with us to the beach."

Surprise flashes over his face, and she wonders if she's just told him something he was unaware of. If he didn't realize that she supported that decision.

He doesn't speak though. He's patient, even though it doesn't really seem like it suits him. 

"But you're right. I don't - you hurt Naru-chan so badly, and I can't forgive you for that."

Nephrite nods. His expression is bleak, his eyes sad. He opens his mouth, saying, "Of course. I understand -"

"I can't forgive you for that  _ yet _ , anyway," she interrupts. His jaw snaps shut. "I want to get to know you - all of you. I don't like you, but I think I could. And if you're willing, I'd like to try."

* * *

If asked, Zoisite wouldn't be able to explain just what is so captivating about the view from Mamoru's window. It isn't something that could be classified as sheer novelty, not when he had spent years able to float far higher, watch the citizens of this world from his place on high, looking down at them, observing their actions and sorting the details of their daily lives into categories: that which was useful and that which was not. 

For this same reason, he can't truthfully say that the beauty of the view is the reason he stayed either. He's seen far more beautiful sights hovering above the Eiffel Tower in Paris, standing atop the highest tower of the La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, flying through the streets of Moscow. Tokyo  _ is  _ beautiful, but the view from Mamoru's apartment would only be impressive to someone who hasn't seen better, lived better. 

So why can't he look away? 

It irritates him that he has to ask, that even the subject of himself has become something vast and unknowable, that he must question even his own actions. That things can't simply be. 

He would love, _ love _ to blame this all on the Senshi, their intrusion into this already miserable existence, but Jadeite, the soft-hearted, overly emotional dastard, had had a point, loathe as he is to admit that even to himself. As frustrating as it is to know that his former enemies could believe even this intolerable existence is undeserved, he can admit that he'd given them ample reason to believe that in the past. 

But that was in the past, and is it so much to ask that it all  _ stay _ in the past? Jadeite thinks they deserve this, for the actions and thoughts of their, and after the brutalities that they had inflicted upon each other Zoisite is  _ not  _ eager to re-open the subject with him, not even to insist on how erroneous his opinion is. 

Because he is wrong.

The men they had been deserve this, and it's very unfortunate that they share an experience with those men, that they harbor the memories of those men, because they are  _ not _ those men. Remembering his life in the Dark Kingdom is like watching a film and remembering that he had been one of the actors. The actions he took, the schemes he crafted, they seem as alien to him as the little green men modern day humans believe live on Mars. 

(Having seen firsthand the look of a woman from Mars, little might be appropriate, but she had hardly been green.)

He takes a deep breath, or rather he pantomimes doing just that, and exhales, scrunching together his face, flexing his shoulders, his rib cage, his spine -

"Is your breathing based on old habit, or is it a necessary function?" A curious voice asks him, terribly familiar and yet thankfully distant. 

Zoisite turns from the window, his every motion slow and reluctant, and looks upon the person who's insisted on intruding upon his thoughts. 

"You've asked me this before, Mercury."

"No, prior to this moment I asked you if your flushed appeared and flustered countenance were an involuntary and natural bodily reaction, or if you were triggering it on purpose. While the two questions are quite similar, they're focused on different subjects. And you have yet to answer either," she tacks on to the end. Mercury doesn't look like a Senshi in this moment, not with her sleeveless blue top with long, high waisted skirt and the flower-shaped buckle of her belt to wrap up the combination, though at least it is blue. There's a notebook in one hand, a pen in the other. No, she doesn't look much like a Senshi.

But she certainly  _ sounds  _ like one. 

Insistent, righteous, and utterly blind to the mood. Zoisite is more than willing to tell her just that, and hammer what he thinks of not just her, but this business of having to get to know the Senshi, but. 

"It's based on old habit," he answers stiffly. But Mamoru had asked that they  _ try _ to connect with them, or at the very least play nicely. And Mamoru  _ is  _ his friend. He forces a smile, hoping this is the end of it. "Is that all you wanted?"

"No," the Senshi says promptly, and without apology. "I'd like to ask you some questions, and better understand you and your condition."

"My condition," he repeats flatly. Is this woman without shame? She must be, to be so content to willingly ignore his complete disinterest in speaking with her. 

"Yes, your condition, as I believe I can safely assume that you weren't always an incorporeal being bound to a rock?" 

This is the one and only aspect of life as a ghost that Zoisite enjoys - the fact that he only reacts, physically that is, when he  _ thinks _ about it. It's the only reason his face doesn't so much as twitch in response to Mercury's sarcastic reply.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he tries, tone curt and expression forbidding. 

It's as if Mercury doesn't even notice. She just offers him a very faint smile and says, "If you'd prefer, I could ask you about the reasons you joined Beryl instead."

And Zoisite stares at her in silent astonishment. The last thing he anticipated was for the bookworm to have teeth, and he has nothing in mind to counter that, because she's found the only topic that he hates discussing more. 

"Perhaps my condition is a better topic of conversation after all," He concedes, and in his eyes her smile reflects something wicked and terrible. "It is a present concern, after all."

"Precisely," she confirms, and steps further into the room, so that she no longer stands like a looming invader in the doorway. Her shoes are sensible flats, with no heels to clack against the floor, and yet he would swear that the floor creaks beneath her every step, a warning he can do nothing about. "I've heard some of the details regarding your current state, but as you Shitennou are the sufferers, you are also the perfect witnesses. Can you -"

Sufferers?

The rest of Mercury's questions are lost to him, Zoisite's mind focused on that one word, and the unexpected feelings of - not satisfaction, and not relief, but something in between those two. 

"You consider this suffering?" He asks, interrupting whatever question she was asking. For once, he doesn't mean to be rude, and that must be evident in his face or in his voice, because Mercury responds without sarcasm. 

"Of course I do." As if it were obvious, as if it need hardly be considered. "Why else would I be asking?"

"To… satisfy your curiosity?"

She stares at him as if he's said something remarkably stupid, and Zoisite is convinced that her  _ voicing _ the words she's obviously thinking couldn't be more of an insult than that stare. It's a perfectly reasonable assumption for him to have made, when all of their encounters have been predicated by her questions. 

"If curiosity were my only motive, I would just ask Mamoru-kun," Mercury says frankly, and he doesn't know why she sounds as if that should have been something completely obvious, when the last he had checked, he had been her enemy, and he had not redeemed himself before death. 

It's actually a pleasant surprise, that she's apparently unbothered enough by his past actions to be concerned over his suffering, a fact that he can admit to himself, if no one else. 

And then he pauses, frowning as an alternate explanation occurs to him."

" _ Why _ does our suffering matter to you?" He asks, unable to hide the note of suspicion in his voice.

"Because I would like to find a way to  _ end _ your suffering?" Mercury says slowly, voice lilting in a manner that turns a statement into a question, and he huffs. 

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because it would be the right thing to do. I can't imagine what I would do with myself if I were in your position, and as I'm fortunate enough to  _ not  _ be in your shoes, I have the privilege to research a solution."

She says it so easily. As if it were only natural. 

"There have to be a million people suffering in this city. Why are you focusing on me?" It's biting himself in the rear to question this and Zoisite knows that, and yet nonetheless, here he stands, questioning the hand held out to him. Another question comes to mind, and even if he's less resentful about it, he still wants an answer straight from the source. "Why did you want to talk to us before we joined you, anyway?"

"You're in front of me," Mercury says, and before he can snap about her flippancy, she's continuing. "You are in front of me, and you have a problem that no one else can help you with, and no one should be in that position.  _ That _ is why I'll help you. As for why we wanted to talk to you, it's simple. If we get to know you, it's possible that we can find a reason to like you."

He feels like he's been insulted. 

"We need to like you, because tolerating is for people who need to make it through a school year. At our best estimation, we are going to live for well over a thousand years, and you may be immortal as long as you're bound in stone. I refuse to tolerate someone for a millennia."

No, that wasn't an insult. That was practicality, of a sort that Zoisite didn't expect from the Senshi, who, in his experience, solved their problems by killing the latest enemy set before them. But then, maybe he should have. Mamoru has told them about this, the 'befriending' tactic.

"So you want to be friends?" He asks skeptically. 

"Friendly acquaintances is most acceptable. I have a busy social circle." Her tone is matter of fact and her words flow without hesitation. This time, Zoisite can't avoid the reflexive slackening of his jaw, the physical manifestation of his disbelief. 

And then he sees her smile, faint and tucked in the corners of her mouth. 

"Are you teasing me?" 

"I might be. Are you ready to cooperate with me?"

"I might be. What do you want to know?"

And so he begins to answer her questions, a task which is easier to say than do - her early questions are simple enough, can he do this, can he do that, how long does it take for him to accomplish this, to what extent is he capable of that, but they grow complicated quickly, and he finds himself drawn into discussion rather than the simple back and forth of question meeting answer. He finds that the time passes faster than he expected, and he finds that Mercury is a better conversationalist than he imagined - she is even more focused on the conversation than he is, and that diversions from the topic are triggered by his own inability to resist comments and asides, which she then dutifully follows up on. 

Before he knows it, the two of them are seated on the guest bed, and Mercury has abandoned her procured notebook in favor of conversation, and he is not talking about his condition at all. 

"I never cared for Beryl, " he's saying, "And we were never close. But she knew what to say to stoke the fears in a person's heart, and when I confronted Endymion… well. I didn't walk away convinced that my fears were for nothing."

"You really believed that he would just...throw you all away?" Her voice is softly disbelieving, and he envies her, just a little, having that kind of security.

"I was sure he would. In those days - Endymion was obsessed with the Moon, with Serenity. He wouldn't hear a word against her or that world, no matter who it came from, or why it was voiced. For me - it seemed as if my worst fears had already come true. One of my oldest friends was lost to me, and it seemed my planet would be next."

Overdramatic and foolish, perhaps, but he had acted and could not take that back. He would, knowing what he does now, but before? He had not acted on emotion alone. Those conversations, swiftly ended and aborted every time, had been nails in a coffin. 

She doesn't say anything, and he levels a state at her, challenging. "Not sympathetic enough for you?"

"I don't pity you," she says, and her words are slow, but not hesitant. Thoughtful. "But I do find it...tragic, how it all turned out, though this is eye-opening. Misunderstandings, jealousy, and wounded pride, these are the keys to ending a grand kingdom."

And he can't deny that. It's true, completely and fully, the boiled down essence of what had happened. 

But for the first time, he doesn't feel defensive of it, either. Even with Mamoru, even with the others, even with  _ Kunzite _ , there was always a sense, a need, to defend himself, his actions, in what had happened. But Mercury isn't interested in casting blame, that's been made abundantly clear. Her interest is knowledge, first and foremost, and it's refreshingly different from his own, admittedly heavily emotions skewed ways of thinking. 

They stay on that topic for sometime - he talking, Mercury listening, her quiet punctured by the odd penetrating question or insightful comment. In a sense, it is the interrogation he feared, but a gentle one, a prodding that's driven by an almost academic curiosity rather than resentment or accusation. 

It's near the end of this conversation that Zoisite realizes, rather guiltily, that he's been doing to the Senshi what he's been so sure that they would do to him. Judging them based on the past, clutching his assumptions to his chest like a shield to keep out the risks of the present. 

"Mercury," he says, abruptly, interrupting whatever question she was formulating next, "I owe you an apology."

She considers this for a moment - he can see her considering it, in the scrunch of her brows and the sudden tightness of her mouth - and responds frankly, "You should apologize to Usagi-chan."

To which he can only demand, in scandalized tones, "What?"

"You were as rude to me as I was to you, which is to say, not very. But you've been snippy with Usagi-chan multiple times. I don't know if you just don't like her or if it's because she was Serenity, but either way, she needs an apology far more than I do."

_ But I didn't want to apologize to her _ , he thinks, the words ringing in his mind with petulant affront. But it's a childish response, and one that he'd be embarrassed to say aloud, because her point is a fair one. Even if he doesn't really regret how he spoke with Her, he can accept that his tone was...perhaps unkind.

Perhaps unwarranted. 

"Very well," he huffs, "I'll offer her an apology when we next meet."

"She's talking to Nephri- oh dear," for the first time, he sees Mercury in less than full composure. Her cheeks flush, her eyes wide with what he can only assume is some embarrassing realization. She pushes herself off the bed and stands, bed notebook forgotten. "I need to see how they're doing, I wasn't supposed to be gone for so long.I'll bring her by."

"You really don't have -" he says, but she's gone before he can finish his sentence, the last edges of her skirt vanishing through the open doorway. He finishes his sentence with a muttered, " to do that."

Great. Wonderful. 

It's perhaps five minutes later (though it could be longer, his sense of time completely lost to him after so much time in stone), that he hears her voice again, in conversation with another, equally familiar voice. 

"You totally forgot about me Ami-chan, that's so mean!"

"It was an accident, I'm so sorry - but it does seem like your conversation was fruitful, at least?"

"I mean… maybe. I guess. Yes?"

"...you don't sound very confident about that. But you seemed to be doing well when I reached you, did I misinterpret that?"

"No, no, it was - Ami-chan this isn't where the front door is, why are we going this way?"

"...Usagi-chan did you only just notice that?"

"No! Shut up, no! Of course not. But why are we going this way?"

"Right, of course. We're coming this way because I left a conversation abruptly, and he had something to say to you."

"He? He who - Ami-chan -"

And then they're in the doorway, Mercury gently steering Moon from behind, her expression gentler to his eyes now, as she focuses on her princess. Her friend. 

Whose own expression is one of complete surprise, her eyes wide, her mouth slipping open. Even her hair seems to stand on end, those ridiculously long twintails recoiling nearly as much as the girl herself does. 

"Zoisite! Zoisite?" The first is a shrill near-shriek directed at him - but the second is a hissed inquiry, clearly aimed at Mercury, Moon twisting about to glower at her comrade in what he can only describe as sheer affront. 

"Yes, Zoisite," Mercury confirms. He's shaking his head. She's ignoring him. "And he has something to say to you."

Oh, she's good. He's going to get her for this.

"Tsukino-san," he doubts that she will take being referred to by title as well as Mercury had, "I owe you an apology."

"...what?" And she's far quieter, all of a sudden, the word hushed and frankly disbelieving. 

He can't really blame her for that. 

"I owe you an apology," he repeats. "Mercury has raised a reasonable point, in that I have been...unpleasant, towards you, despite the fact that you haven't done much to deserve that."

Moon simply stares at him, her silence broadcasting her shock. Mercury is raising a brow, and he realizes that he hasn't yet  _ given _ the apology. Damnation. 

"And so I hope you will accept my humble apologies, for being rude to you, and giving you a 'hard time', as some might put it."

"Thank you," she says. It's like she doesn't have to think about it, she just says it. "You were being a huge jerk, so thank you. And I'll try not to be a jerk back next time."

It's a fair sentiment, if childish. He nods, preferring not to say anything further, and a stiff silence settles over them. 

"Right!" Moon says into that silence, when a moment has passed with them all just looking at each other. She twists around so that Mercury is the one closer to him and grasps her wrist. "Ami-chan and I are heading home. Thank you for - talking to me, Zoisite-san. We'll see you at the beach."

And then she's disappearing through the doorway and trying to tug Mercury along. Mercury offers him a faint smile and shrug. 

"It was nice to speak with you, Zoisite. I'll see you on Saturday - enjoy the view."

And so he's left alone, sitting by the window. He looks through it, watching the little people go by, living their lives, and realizes that he's smiling. 

That wasn't terrible after all. Perhaps Mercury was right. Perhaps these ties, which would surely last through the next thousand years were something to make pleasant, rather than merely tolerable. 

* * *

On the roof of Mamoru's apartment, Rei is engaged with a meeting of her own. The first of the Senshi to arrive for the day, she had wasted no time in collecting Jadeite's stone and ascending to the open air. There's privacy here, and space, and that's worth dealing with the direct heat of the sun. She doesn't know how this will play out, aside from her reluctant awareness that Mamoru would never forgive her if she simply chucked the stone over the railing and washed her hands of it all. 

She turns the stone over in her hands, considering the cut, the shape. It's finely polished, but could hardly be called a perfect gem with its lopsided-diamond form and deep blue coloring, a dozen shades away from the green of the most prized forms of jade. No collector would have ever called it beautiful, but she supposes that it's nice enough. She'd probably like it more if she didn't know who it was hiding. 

But she does. And the fact that he's still hidden within the stone, rather than standing before her to be berated means that at least one idea she and Minako had discussed is true. 

(Thinking of Minako is a mistake - she can already feel her face turning red. Better to think of other things,  _ business _ things.)

Rei turns the stone over in her hand once more before turning her attention to her transformation wand. Light glints off the red crystal set in the shaft, the symbol of Mars lit from within. Usagi and Mamoru, as usual, are special cases. If she wants to speak with Jadeite she'll need to be dressed for the occasion. The familiar words fill her thoughts as she lifts the wand. 

"Mars Crystal Power! Make up!"

Fire spouts from the wand, a twirling wreathe of flame that surrounds her, and the heat of the day is no longer filled with baleful wrath but serenity. A source of strength that lives and breathes as she does, and in between one breath and the next the fire of her power becomes one with her, her clothes transfigured into her fuku, her forehead crowned with a tiara. The star of her choker settles comfortably against the hollow of her throat. 

Her transformation wand has disappeared, but the stone clenched in Eternal Sailor Mars' now gloved hand hasn't. It glows a pearlescent white and then Jadeite appears before her.

The sun doesn't reflect off his golden hair - it passes through him instead, a reminder that for all he looks to be a living, breathing person, he isn't. He's just a ghost, a restless spirit lingering after his master. If he proves malicious, she'll rid them of him. If he doesn't - 

Well, she'll consider that unlikely concept later. 

"Hino-san," Jadeite says quietly, and inclines his head in greeting. His manner reminds her little of the man who once invaded her sacred home; there's none of the smug condescension that she had sensed even then, barely hidden under a veil of humility. 

"Jadeite," she returns stiffly, her own head shifting by not so much as a centimeter. She meets his gaze and is immediately unsettled by the fact that she can see the surrounding walls through them. _Creepy._ But she knew that. "You know why I'm here."

"I do. Allow me to save you some little effort: you should not trust me, I cannot prove any good intentions, and I will seek no further interaction once Saturday's visitation has reached its conclusion." The words are delivered matter of factly and without hesitation, the air of a prepared speech lingering when he's said his piece. He stands formally, hands behind his back and elbows bent in a manner that suggests they've been clasped at the small of his back. The old fashioned demeanor suits his attire, a white uniform with patterned gold detailing and a cape, deep brown above and the same rich blue of the stone below. 

Violet eyes widen a fraction before narrowing in suspicion. A scowl cuts across Rei's face. She had been prepared for an argument, ready to carve deep the lines of her suspicion and challenge him to rise above them. She isn't sure of what to do with this calm recitation, and having answers thrown her way before she can even begin to ask questions is irritating. 

"I can't trust you, but I should take your word for it that that's all true?" She demands, her accusation falling flat against her calm target. Jadeite offers a single nod, his face as placid and composed as the stone his spirit dwells within.

“Yes. However, words being mere words, I understand that you cannot trust my intentions. My actions were many and none of them helpful to you. Mamoru-kun may have told you that we cannot move about or interact with our environment in our current state - this is true. I could not move to plot against you even if I desired it, and I can only maintain my presence in the company of your allies. I hope these facts bring you some measure of comfort and security."

"I don't need  _ comfort _ from you. Why are you so calm about this? And how long have you been planning that speech, anyway?" The words slip out unplanned, a manifestation of her frustration that she already regrets showing. Realistically, she should be glad about this, his easy acceptance and willing concessions, but she's not. She knows herself well enough to admit that part of it is the simple fact that he's surprised her, and she hates surprises. But the other part is that none of this makes sense. There is nothing for him to be calm about in this situation. This is his life he's talking about. This is his  _ freedom _ . Doesn't he care?

Jadeite just looks at her. He doesn't blink, meeting her gaze evenly. "I don't see the point in getting passionate about a foregone conclusion. I am currently dead and formerly your enemy; you don't owe me anything, least of all your time."

He doesn't look like he's lying. His eyes are harder and colder than ice. The line of his shoulders is as straight as a board. She's seen statues that looked more relaxed than he does now. He looks like he means every word that he's saying. 

She doesn't believe him. She can't.

"You don't mean that," she argues, crossing her arms. The fingers of her right hand tap against her elbow. "'You will seek no further visitation' - what does that even mean? You won't interact with us? With Mamoru? You understand that the group of us are a package deal, don't you?"

Is that what he means? That he won't be trying to make contact with them? Because that makes some measure of sense, at least -

"I do mean it," Jadeite says, interrupting her thoughts, and she thinks she detects a note of impatience there, in the quick cadence of those four words. "And I understand perfectly well that you and your teammates are Tsukino-san's retinue -"

"We're her friends," Rei grits out, speaking over him and missing whatever follows. It can't matter as much as correcting this little misinterpretation of things. "And  _ his _ friends too."

" _ Ye _ s," and is that a snap? Is that a break in his cool little facade, is she getting to him?  _ Good _ . His next words are stilted and tense, less rehearsed. He isn't anticipating her anymore, he's reacting to her. "My apologies for misspeaking, I mean no offense. I was trying to say that you've understood my position perfectly. I have no interest in inflicting my presence on you or in demanding extra time from Mamoru-kun. I am content with acting on his time-scale."

"You're content with that," and her skepticism is clear. "So if he decided he only wanted to let you out once a month, you'd be fine with that?"

"He's a busy man. I'd be honored if he made time to visit with me once a month," He lifts his head a fraction as he responds, looking down his nose at her. 

"And if it were once every six months? Or just once a year, would you still be honored?" She challenges. 

"What a wonderful tradition that would be," he counters instantly. A corner of his mouth quirks in an impossible smile, "A sort of anniversary."

Rei stares at him for a long moment, aware that she's doing it and completely unable to do anything about the fact. She doesn't understand him. She doesn't understand him at all. She says as much, rubbing her forehead with the fingers of one hand. He's going to give her a headache. 

"I don't think there's much to misunderstand here, Hino-san. I understand that it must be difficult to take me at my word, but I have neither the desire nor the ability to cause trouble." He sighs, and brushes a hand through his hair, these the first genuine acts of emotion she's seen from him. He doesn’t need to do either, given that his hair hasn't shifted and his chest hasn't risen once in this conversation - so it's either habit or not as genuine as her gut says it is. "Truthfully, I wouldn't be going on this trip at all if it weren't for the fact that my absence would upset Mamoru-kun."

And that's surprising enough that her eyes widen a fraction. Rei shakes her head, never quite looking away from him. "You haven't left this apartment complex in three years."

It isn't a question. From what Mamoru's said, they probably haven't left since he brought them home from D-Point. She thinks the boredom alone would kill her, let alone the cabin fever. And he's saying he'd still skip the chance to get out? Why? And even more importantly, the question that won't leave her alone,  _ why does she care? _ Isn't it better for them that he doesn't want to get out, that he'd rather stick to the four walls of Mamoru's apartment and the slice of a view that this roof offers? Doesn't this mean life can go on unchanged, their peace unbroken?

"Yes," Jadeite confirms, and for a moment of panic she thinks he's read the questions in her mind until she realizes, no, he was taking her words as a question. "I don't claim to speak for my companions Hino-san, but I am content with what I have."

"Why?" She asks, a hand on her hip. Her eyes narrow. "Why are you  _ content _ ?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" He counters, and looks over his shoulder, to the sight of the sun sparkling against a thousand buildings, splashes of green interspersed like puddles on sidewalk, this slice of the Minato-ku skyline. "I have everything I could desire."

"You can't leave," she reminds him.

"Why would I ever want to?" 

"You don't get tired of being stuck in the same place?"

"It's the quality of the space, not the quantity of it. I could say the same for the company."

"So you're telling me that you're happy to never talk to anyone but Mamoru-kun and the other Shitennou again?"

"Not to be flippant, Hino-san, but what does happiness have to do with anything?"

"So you  _ aren't _ as satisfied as you say," triumph. 

"Now ,I never said that," straight-set shoulders grow stiff. The impossible smile twitches. 

"You implied it and now you failed to deny it. Happiness has everything to do with it, if you want to claim you're content with all of this."

"That's an assumption built on faulty premises. You assume that one must be happy to be content and that satisfaction cannot live where happiness does not. You assume wrong. I don't need to be happy with my life to be content with it."

"You don't consider happiness a necessity?" She can feel her face twist with doubt. 

"Happiness is fleeting -"

"Then what isn't?"

"Excuse me?"

"If happiness is fleeting, then what isn't? What's keeping you content?"

"Are you looking for satisfaction, Hino-san?" A hint of teeth in that smile, the innocence of it dying. 

"No, but I think you are."

The smile drops. His eyes widen a fraction - for the first time, she thinks she may have caught him off guard."

"Excuse me?" 

"You keep saying that. It doesn't count as an answer."

"I wasn't aware of a question in that presumption," oh is that ice in his voice, has she struck a nerve?  _ Good. _

"Oh, there wasn't. That was a statement. But I did ask what  _ isn't _ fleeting and you have been desperately trying to change the subject. Leads me to believe you don't have an answer, Jadeite-san."

"What you choose to believe is out of my control."

"That's still not an answer. And now I'm afraid it's you who must be confused - so allow me to shed light on the situation." She strides forward, crowding him for a moment before she turns on her heel and lifts the blue stone on the table. Her fingers clutch the surface, facets settling against joints. It feels cool even through her gloves, even having sat in the sun all this time. She looks at it and not him as she continues.

"You say that you aren't a threat. You spout pretty words about how you don't want to cause trouble, and you might have a point about that for now at least, you physically  _ can _ 't cause trouble. But experience has shown me that people don't just abandon their old way of life, not without good reason." Koan and her sisters were an example of that, Usagi had a point in bringing them up, but Rei had  _ known _ what Koan wanted. She had understood why she and her sisters were willing to give up their lives as they'd known them. "So what about your life has you content  _ now _ , when you had more and better in the Silver Millennium and still betrayed your prince?"

"The fact that I c _ an't  _ betray him like this, for one thing. As long as I'm like this, you don't have anything to worry about."

And maybe she would have been willing to leave it there, if Usagi hadn't made that suggestion about bringing them back, if Usagi hadn't doubled down on it yesterday. But she did and she had and Rei has no doubt in her mind that what Usagi wants, Usagi will find a way to get. She always does - she wants what she wants, and she finds a way to make it happen. 

So she needs more than that. "And if you weren't like this? What would be your reason for not acting out then?"

"I don't think impossibilities are a matter we need to concern ourselves with -"

"I transform into a magical guardian to defend the planet and protect the reincarnated princess of a kingdom that lived under force fields on the moon. You're currently a ghost bound to a rock smaller than my hand. Impossibilities are  _ exactly  _ what we need to concern ourselves with."

"...fair enough," Jadeite concedes, and then is silent for long enough that Rei is opening her mouth to snap at him when he finally continues. "Crush the stone."

She must have misheard him. "Excuse me?" Rei demands, her eyes snapping back to him in an instant.

"Crush the stone," he repeats, and only now does she realize that the ice in his eyes had been hollow, just another piece of the mask, because now they burn. "If nothing I say can convince you that I mean no harm, if me being alive is too great a threat to suffer, then crush the stone and be done with it already!"

And Rei would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, if she said that there was no part of her that failed to recognize what an opportunity that would be simple and clear-cut a solution it offered, an end to the threat, an end to the ambiguity, a return to normal -

But it isn't. 

There is no return to normal, there is no going back, this is their lives. It wouldn't be simple. It wouldn't be easy. 

She doesn't trust him, she doesn't particularly like him, and she doesn't understand him.But that doesn't mean there aren't people who do, and most importantly, it doesn't mean there isn't one particular someone who wouldn't feel absolutely destroyed if she went through with that. 

"I can't do that," she says, and it's a weight being lifted, a realization that no, she doesn't have this in her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

"What?" Jadeite demands, frustration flashing over his face. "Why not? Isn't that what you've been working to this whole time?"

"Because the fact that you're a potential threat doesn't outweigh that Mamoru loves you, and that Usagi loves him, and that unfortunately for both of us I care about both of them." She will not say the L word to a stranger, no matter what the circumstance, no matter the occasion. But she knows what she meant, and Jadeite is perceptive enough that she's sure that  _ he _ knows what she meant, and the thought is almost as annoying as her revelation is relieving. 

She can't kill him, not like this, when he's helpless to turn his potential into action. It would be one thing if they were still on the battlefield, but they aren't. Their peace hasn't been broken, but changed. If she takes his advice now, if she follows through on his demand, she'll be the one who destroys what they've fought so hard to win. 

He doesn't say anything. The pallor of his skin is hard to tell, when he doesn't have blood to drain and the light shines through him rather than on him, but his eyes are hard, his lips pinched. She can see the way his shoulders have dipped, that straight line bowing under some awful pressure. 

She could be kind, and back off. She could give him a chance to think through the ramifications of what he'd said, what  _ she'd _ said. But Rei's never considered herself kind, and her gut response to hitting a weak point isn't to back off but to push on. She doesn't think about the words as she lets them fly true, to strike as her arrows do. 

"You're supposed to be his guardian. Even if you don't care about your own happiness, shouldn't his be your greatest priority?"

"It  _ is _ my greatest priority," Jadeite insists, but his voice is soft and lacks conviction. 

"Not if you're telling me to break this stone," Rei disagrees, holding the shard of jadeite up to the sunlight. It isn't a translucent type of stone - the sunlight doesn't reflect through it as it does Jadeite himself, but rather reflects off the surface. The weight of it is deceptively heavy in her hand. "Not if you think he'd be alright with your death."

"Maybe I just didn't think you could do it," he proposed, and she levels a glance in his direction. She shakes her head, just once, unamused.

"We both know that if Mamoru loved you a little less, if you were a little more dangerous, I would have already let gravity introduce you to the streets below. But he does and you aren't. So why don't we stop going in circles and you just  _ tell me  _ why you're fine with spending the rest of your life as a rock when we both know it's making  _ him _ miserable?"

"Because maybe he's safer that way," The words fall like shards of ice from a freak hailstorm, unexpected and heavy with the weight of a feeling she can't name, one both familiar and not when viewed from this angle. Jadeite continues while she's still staring, his composure vanishing. His eyes are desperate. "Because maybe I agree with you. The risk  _ is _ too great. The reward can't possibly be enough for him. His happiness is all I've ever wanted, and I can't ruin that, not again."

Her immediate thought is  _ then why did you do it in the first place _ , a question that she does, suddenly, want an answer too, in spite of her resolution to leave the past in the past. Her second is the equally uncharitable notion that  _ you, personally, probably didn't ruin anything besides a small economy _ . This too, she doesn't voice, groping about for a response that feels insightful and at least adequate, if not brilliantly composed. But nothing comes to mind.

Jadeite continues, unheeded by the weight of her silence. "You asked why I am content to live out the rest of my days like this, and it's because I am content if he is happy, because like this, I can do no harm, because like this, I can carry out my duty. I don't need anything more. I don't deserve anything more. I could never leave these walls again, I could be summoned from this stone once a century, and as long as he was happy, that would be enough."

This, Rei could almost believe, but for that statement before. If he could be content this way, why would he suggest his own death so easily?

This question, she voices. "Then why did you say -"

Or rather, she starts to, because as the words leave her lips she is interrupted.

"Because he is  _ not _ happy, and I know what he wants and I don't want to give it to him!" The words are an explosion. The last shreds of Jadeite's calm vaporize under the pressure of this moment. 

Had Rei not been a Senshi, this might have been frightening. But she is, and it takes so much more than a man raising his voice to frighten her. She of all people can recognize when the thin line of someone's patience has finally snapped, when a show of temper is just that, temper, rather than intimidation. 

Jadeite's chest heaves and his hands cup the sides of his face, fingertips combing through the curls falling over his forehead. His voice is off-putting, filled with emotion and yet without the physical  _ exertion  _ of that emotion. He can't gasp for breath around sobs or rasp with exertion, and yet there is a ragged, pained quality to it nonetheless. 

"He isn't satisfied with the way things are, not when we're as much his prisoners as his guardians, and that isn't a feeling that's going to subside the changing of the seasons. Now that he's admitted it once, he'll do it again, and it won't be long before he revisits the concept of our return and the threat of our potential becomes the reality of our threat."

"Then just say no," Rei suggests flippantly, feeling her pulse in her ears as she tries not to give away that Usagi's already broached that topic. His worry is more an eventuality than he knows. 

"It may well be a different matter for you, Hino-san, but I did not land myself in this position by denying my prince his heart's desires."

Which, what? It takes every muscle in Rei's body to hold back disbelieving laughter.

"You don't consider siding with Beryl to be denying his heart's desires?" She asks incredulously. 

"Not when I thought it was the best path to securing his future, and yes, I know exactly how off my judgement was on  _ that _ one, you don't have to say it," he tacks on, grimacing, but no. She's let a good deal slide so far, but she can't bite her tongue here. 

"How was siding with her supposed to  _ secure his future? _ "

"Because I thought Beryl wanted power, the throne. I didn't realize until it was too late that she wanted those as a precursor to Endymion himself. And power is something Endymion never cared much for, a fact of his life more than something he took pride in, and he was marrying  _ Serenity _ . He was hardly going to be on the planet anyway - it would have hurt him in the short term, but in practicality he was going to be too busy making a new life with his new wife in her kingdom far out of mortal reach. I judged that allowing him to be cut loose from his responsibilities here would free him to fully claim his happiness."

He sighs then, drooping. 

"Or maybe that's just what I tell myself, some vain effort to understand the unthinkable."

"The unthinkable?"

"Can you think of a reason you'd betray one you love?"

He says it easily, that word, love, like it has no significance and merely is. She can't think of a reason. She can't imagine what would be worth it. 

She doesn't ask, but her face must spell out her questions, because he responds. 

"I loved Endymion. He was my brother, and I loved him and I wanted to see him thrive more than anything, more than I wanted our world to function, more than I wanted our people to be happy, more than  _ I _ wanted to be happy, I wanted to see him smile because he meant it and I so rarely did. And he loved our people but - he loved Serenity more. Or so I thought, and he was never afforded the chance to convince us otherwise."

"Us?" She has to pick at the details, the trees rather than the forest, because there's too much to process, too little time. He had said 'I' just a moment before. 

"My brothers and I - we each had our reasoning. My thinking wasn't entirely dissimilar to their own."

"'Entirely dissimilar'," she repeats, and crosses her arms. As much as she hates to interrupt this telling, this is going to bother her until she has an answer. "Are you so formal by nature or because it lets you hedge your meanings?"

"Honestly? Both. I was Endymion's diplomat, Hino-san, his preferred envoy - which isn't too surprising, when you consider the other options. I'm the only real 'people person' among us."

"You're a politician," she concludes, brows arching. She considers him a long moment. "That explains a lot."

"Yes, I imagine it does," and there's really nothing else that needs to be said about that. He closes his eyes, rubbing them. "I misjudged Beryl. I told you, I thought she would be satisfied with power, and the throne, and that was the truth. In all the time I'd known her, I'd known she craved respect and acknowledgement above anything else and -"

_ What? _

"You knew her?" Rei interrupts, disbelieving. 

"I knew her," Jadeite confirms, then hesitates. "We were - I thought we were friends."

A thought occurs to her, horrible, one that comes from the part of her that's spent entirely too much time discussing TV dramas with Minako. Considering the confession she's just heard (as she would classify this admission), she thinks it's perfectly reasonable that she asks, "Were you and Beryl -?"

" _ No _ ," that single word drips venom, as Jadeite cuts her off before she can find a way to finish that sentence. His hesitation is gone, or so it seems. "We were acquainted with one another throughout our youth. She, a servant of the palace; I, a servant of the prince. I thought mysef a better judge of character than I am, because throughout our youth I saw her humiliations and knew that once she had tasted power she would not surrender, and Endymion had neither the heart to order her assassination nor the wisdom to see that our people agreed with her, not him."

Rei bristles at this judgement, a scowl cutting across her features. "Mamoru would -"

"Mamoru is  _ not  _ Endymion." Jadeite's voice is as hard as a mountain glacier and just as cold. He stares at her, his eyes like shards of stained glass colored blue, the walls and flooring visible through him tinted by the color. She does not look away. "Endymion is a part of Mamoru, but that is all he is. Mamoru is his own man and he would have made different choices."

"Not better?" Rei snipes, still irked at the perceived slight. 

"Prophecy isn't one of my gifts. I can't say he would have done a better job. But I loved Endymion and I knew him, and he was not a man who suffered in his life, or a man who knew true fear. He was  _ sympathetic  _ to our ancient peoples' fears, but he wasn't empathetic to them. In that way… he and Mamoru are strikingly distinct."

The explanation takes the sting from that judgment, and Rei considers the differences that might exist between past and present, and the people they had been compared to the people they are now. It isn't a topic she spared much thought. Her memories of that ancient time long since past are few and scattered, and she has no desire to revisit them. It's a selfish desire, she knows - but she's heard Minako's nightmares, seen her haunted eyes on early mornings and the way she looks at them in the worst of times, as if she were already planning their funerals. 

Her own lingering impressions and the reluctance with which they had all shared in discussing the topic… maybe it was a bad assumption, to think that they are now and the people they were could be reflections of each other. 

"If you don't remember the past, I can see why you'd think that way," Jadeite says, as if he's read her thoughts and has prepared a begrudging answer. "There  _ are _ similarities. The core is the same, but the structure is different."

"You realize that didn't actually explain anything," Rei points out. 

"Let me use Endymion and Mamoru as an example, then. Physically and spiritually, they have certain similarities - they make the same expressions, their eyes are near identical, their stubbornness and near dogmatic loyalty drives me mad at times, the set of Mamoru's jaw when he scowls reminds me of -" he cuts himself off, shaking his head. Rei wonders what he was about to say. "My point being, they have similarities. They are each an incarnation of the same spirit, that makes sense. But they aren't the  _ same _ ."

"How does that work then?" Rei asks, frowning.

"Aren't you a priestess?" 

"Of a Shinto shrine. Reincarnation doesn't carry into our beliefs," she can feel a twitching muscle in her forehead. Her tone is biting. 

Jadeite winces, raising both hands in a gesture for mercy. 

"I walked myself into that one, and I apologise Hino-san. It's like… okay," and he pauses, obviously considering an explanation and struggling. She's ready to tell him that she doesn't need him to explain it to her as if she were a two year old when he brightens, eyes widening and a faint smile crossing his face. She hadn't noticed until now how grim his face had become. "Have you ever watched any of the Super Sentai series?"

The only thing she can do is say, "Yesssss?" In as confused and reluctant a manner as possible. 

"Wonderful. Now, did you know that in America, they've adapted Super Sentai footage to create a different series that they call 'Power Rangers'?"

Where is he going with this? She doesn't trust her voice, and so Rei offers a single nod. Of course she's heard of it. Usagi and Minako have had  _ many _ debates on the subject, Minako having developed what Usagi considered a treasonous preference for the American version while in London.

"Alright, so stay with me here, but reincarnation is like turning Super Sentai into Power Rangers. The core - the footage, in this case - is the same, but the structure is different. The storylines are separate, the characters are different, the languages aren't the same - what they really have in common is a foundation, not a reality. Are you still with me?" 

That… makes sense, actually. It really does, as bizarre as it is to admit. She never thought she'd be grateful for playing audience to all of those debates, but she has enough context to gather what he means when contrasting the two, and to guess at what this means for his other example. 

She doesn't have to guess long. Jadeite continues, his smile slipping away. 

"In the same way Endymion shared only the core of his being with Mamoru. He was the prince of a newly united planet, and if he wanted for anything it was the chance to move through the world as a common man, without the weight of his lineage. He didn't suffer in his life, as Mamoru has, and he didn't understand fear and loss and powerlessness, because he had always been powerful, and respected, and beloved. He was kind and generous and loving and loyal, he was well-learned and well-read, adventurous and open-minded, but he could not relate to the fear his people had of the unknown, the way that change had so often been a thing of instability and harsh times for them, because as prince he was sheltered from the impact of these things. In time, I know he would have grown wise."

"But he didn't have time," Rei says. She hears the grief in his voice, recognizes it from years of familiarity with her own. There is a certain pain that never leaves, when one thinks about the time that could have been and never will be. How much worse is that pain when you have only yourself to blame for losing it?

"But he didn't have time," Jadeite echoes. "I was - I don't judge him, Hino-san. I would not have asked him to make a different choice. I didn't side with Beryl because I disagreed with him."

"Then why did you side with her and not him, if you agreed with what he was doing?"

"I didn't agree with  _ him _ either," he says, and then continues on before she can grow impatient, "Serenity made him happy, and the thought of marrying her made him happier still. I never saw him smile as he did when he was with her, contemplating their grand future. He thought - I think he thought - that there was a way for them to have it all; the Earth and its people, the Moon and its kingdom, their happiness together, peace between our worlds. But they couldn't, and if Serenity made him happiest, then the last thing that should be lost to him was her."

It's a sentiment that Rei would have never expected from him, and one she struggles to understand. An idea that comes to mind, pressing at her thoughts, but she puts it aside She can't really believe that. What she asks then, is her second idea, her rationalization of all this. "You took guarding him that seriously? You know the times when we should say 'no', don't you?"

"I took loving him that seriously," Jadeite says ruefully, his expression wistful. "But you aren't wrong."

_ Oh _ . 

It's all she can think, at first. The realization washes over her. She thinks about how many times he's said the word love in the last few minutes of this conversation. She thinks about the hate in his voice as he denied any deeper feeling for Beryl. She reads the fondness in his expression, and wonders at how he can stand to be so open. 

She thinks about Minako, again, and the limits of what she might do for her. The lack thereof. 

"When you said you loved him -"

"I meant I loved him," Jadeite confirms, and when Rei meets his gaze she sees nothing but the truth. "I loved him more than anything else. More than myself, more than my country, more than my brothers. It was total. It was everything."

"So when you sided with Beryl, you…?"

She doesn't have to finish the question. He catches her train of thought easily enough. "I didn't realize that she loved him too, and that she didn't care enough to let him be happy. I told you - I thought she wanted power. Respect. The planet would be enough, I thought, and Endymion would have Serenity, and he could be happy on the Moon."

"Without his planet?" She demands, trying to find her footing, her equilibrium, wondering if he could see how terrible his love was, even as it was terrible in a manner so unlike Beryl's. "Without his home?"

"He couldn't marry Serenity and have the planet too. That was a fool's dream."

"That's what he's doing now, or did you miss the little details of their future together?"

What's happening now, it could have been then. They might have avoided the war, they might have avoided their deaths, and Usagi's nightmares about a sword in her hand, and Minako's empty eyes when she looked up at the night sky. Anger is more familiar than this confusion, more comfortable. She holds it close as she glares at him in challenge. 

"No, it's not. The Moon Kingdom is dead, in this time. Tsukino-san is of the Earth, and her home, and your home, and his home and their homes - they are here, on the Earth. When Endymion walked the Earth and fell in love with a goddess, she was never going to descend from her realm and live among us for all his life. She would have visited, and what was enough for a man in the excitement of a secret courtship would have been intolerable for a husband. He would have left to follow her, and the Earth would have had an empty throne regardless."

"You based so much on presumptions," Rei scorns, "Serenity would have surprised you. She loved the Earth, and she loved him."

"And her mother did not, and yes this was a presumption, Hino-san, but I doubt that that woman ruled an empire older than the ruling kingdom of our planet by acting the fool. Princess Serenity was Queen Serenity's only heir, and your empire spanned the Sol System. You cannot tell me you genuinely thought  _ Serenity _ would be the one to abdicate her throne."

She can't argue with that. No, she could, but she wouldn't have a rational argument to beat him with, because as much as she was loathe to admit it, he was right. Her memories of Queen Serenity are few and far between, but a woman who would take four children into service as lifetime soldiers for the protection of her child was surely not a woman who would allow that child to simply waltz away from everything she'd planned to give her. 

"Even if she were open to the idea, the people of the Earth would not be. Our entire lives, we heard stories of the people who lived on the Moon, the goddesses who watch from on high without lifting a finger to aid us in our struggles. To have one of them become queen would have been intolerable. It isn't impossible for a man to rule a planet divided, but it would have been difficult, painful work, even without Beryl's machinations."

"So instead you sacrificed your planet to her."

"They say love is the death of duty. Some might argue that my duty was to the Earth, and what was best for it. But I was Endymion's guardian, not the Earth's. It was his heart that beat in time with mine. They say that duty is the death of love - but in truth, they are sisters. And when love  _ is _ duty, what dies then?"

"Everything," she says, and her lips twist. "Or did you forget that part?"

"Never. You asked me, Hino-san, why am I content with this existence? Why am I satisfied with what I am? This is why. I cost Endymion everything - his dreams, his freedom, his _ life _ . How could I stand at Mamoru's side, knowing that I tore down our world for Endymion's happiness, and in the end it was all for nothing?"

Rei doesn't answer. How could she?

"I chose wrong," he says, the words a bitter exhale, barely audible. "I chose wrong. Beryl hastened my descent but I took the first step. I calculated the odds, but maths were never my strong suit.”

She snickers and immediately bites her lip, stifling the sound. It isn’t that she regrets laughing, but it feels almost, no, definitely, inappropriate for the moment and the setting. 

But Jadeite cracks a smile in return. “No, no, that was a joke, you can laugh.”

“About how your miscalculation cost us everything?” The thing about laughter though, is you can't just turn it off at the flip of a switch and definitely not with the power of your mind. Rei can feel her lips twitching with every word, and she just knows that her attempt at judgement was an absolute flop.

“Yeah. You can’t scream when you’re laughing - really, it’s true! I figured that one out through good old trial and error.”

Doubt must be painted across her face, because Jadeite’s smile fades. “Alright, alright. I won’t go trying to lighten the mood anymore. It’s just - look. Hino-san. I made a bad call, and I’m not trying to overinflate my self-worth or anything, but a good portion of the apocalypse is squarely on me. If you think that doesn’t make a man want to scream, you’re wrong. And I could blame Beryl, because I know she messed with my head, but I already told you - I took the first step. I had the first doubts. And I’d like to think that jealousy didn’t have any part in it, and I’d like to believe that I did it all for love, but the truth is I don’t know, and neither do you. I didn’t say that I loved him for your sympathy.”

That’s a little hard to believe. Did he really think that she wouldn’t care about something like that, that it wouldn’t have any impact on her to know that he was - that he’d been in love with his charge?

She can’t even think the word. If she can’t even do that, why  _ would  _ he think it would matter? 

“Then why did you say it?” Rei asks, and her frustration bleeds into her tone. “If you weren’t looking for sympathy, why would you admit something like that?”

“Because I’m used to people knowing,” Jadeite says, like it’s nothing, and it’s like a bucket of water being thrown in her face. “The only people I talk to are Mamoru and my brothers, and if you think there are any secrets between four men living in confined quarters, I have a condo by the palace that I’d love to sell you.”

The joke doesn’t land, because Rei isn’t considering that at all. She’s feeling - she can’t put a name to what she’s feeling, actually, disappointment or relief or some strange mingling of the two. “So they didn’t know all along.”

“Oh, they did.” 

How does he say these things so easily? Like they don’t matter? How does - 

“I’ve noticed that the modern world has hang ups about this sort of thing,” he says, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. When she looks at him he meets her eyes, and it’s like being under a microscope, like he’s looking at her for the first time and peeling back layers. “Is that what you’re really asking about?”

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Even if he thinks he does, he doesn’t. She reminds herself of that as she answers. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Of course not. You’re entitled to your questions and their answers,” is what he says, but the feeling of being pinned beneath his eyes doesn’t fade. “I didn’t hide what I felt for my prince, but I didn’t thrust it out into the open. Those closest to us knew, and those who had been above us knew. It was a good thing, in their eyes.”

“Why?”

“Think of it from their perspective. I loved my prince leagues more than I loved myself. I engaged in no dalliances, I chased no opportunities - when I flirted, it was for business, and when chances for pleasure came to my door I fled. When he was in the room, my attention stayed fixed on him. As far as our minders were concerned, it was an ideal circumstance.”

“And if he’d returned those feelings? Would it have been a good thing then? Or was it the fact that your feelings were hopeless that made it tolerable?”

“If he’d returned my feelings then that might have been another matter, if only because a prince marries for status, power, alliances, or preferably, a combination of all three. I couldn’t have offered him anything. The fact that we were both men wouldn’t have been a problem.” He stops for a moment and simply stares at her, until her skin prickles and her shoulders shift.

“What?” She snaps when the moment doesn’t end. “What are you looking at?”

“Apologies. I was just wondering - do you ask because hearing my story  _ does _ make you sympathize with me?”

“No,” she lies, and her scowl is fierce. “I asked because I’m trying to understand you, and you don’t make it easy.” 

She’s not talking about this with him, not before she’s talked about this with the people she’s actually close to, never mind that he’s like her, never mind that he might have loved Endymion the way she loved Minako - 

“Are you in love with Mamoru-kun too?” 

It’s his turn to falter. 

“No,” he says, and she hopes she’d been more convincing than he is.


	5. A Moment of Rockspite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of contemplation.

The sky is grey on Friday morning, the heat and humidity together a one-two punch that has the Senshi staggering as they make their way first to and then from their various schools. Lectures are heard, notes are taken, and absolutely none of it is retained, each mind preoccupied with the events and revelations of the week. Even for Ami, even for Mamoru, the day is little more than a wash, as far as educational goals are concerned. It’s the end of the week. It’s the last day between them and their trip to the beach and everything that will entail. 

There’s a sort of excitement, a sort of dread, in the air. One more night before it's here. One more day before it's over. Just one more. 

It isn't really just one more day, and they know that, of course. When this Saturday comes and goes there will be more Saturdays to come. More ventures, more discussions, more revelations, more conversations, an endless stretch of more in their future. For some of them, this is a thought to look forward to. For others, a headache to put off. 

For all of them, a new reality.

A question,  _ the question _ , lingers in the back of their minds. 

_ What comes next? _

For Usagi and Mamoru, the answer is a simple two words, and a desire to focus on the here and now: date night. 

There's a cafe opening, one that they've been counting down the days to. It's a small place, that changes every month or so, closing and reopening with a new look, a new theme, and most importantly of all, a new menu. They've been at least half a dozen times over the years, and all but the first, inspired by Minako's rapturous delight over it's Sailor V theme, have been dates, just the two of them together, a boy and a girl in love. No past lives, no tragedies. No monsters, no destiny. 

Just him and her and a restaurant that changes more often than they get a power up.

Usagi could hardly dream of anything better than this, the two of them here and now, she with her mango juice and he with his matcha latte. Well, maybe not  _ hardly _ \- her dreams could be pretty fantastical after all! - but it would certainly take some effort, to dream of an afternoon going better than this. 

"Mamochan," she says, smiling at him across the table, "I'm glad we could still do this."

"Me too," he says, and when he extends his hand her smile grows even wider. It isn't every day that Mamochan is the one to initiate a public display of affection, so the days that he does are automatically ranked Good Days. Which is good, because this week has needed one. 

"Is your latte good?" She asks next, eyes sliding from his face to his drink. She hears him laugh, and then the drink is being pushed her way. Usagi cheers (quietly, of course) and pushes her own drink over to his side of the table, swapping delightedly. They can't order  _ everything _ on the menu, not when there's a drink for every single character and just two of them, but they've decided that they each get to pick two drinks to go along with the menu special. 

For Usagi, that means two super sweet drinks. And for Mamochan, it means that the four different lattes are much to debate over. Sharing everything means that they get the best of both worlds. 

The top of matcha latte is carefully examined, but of course the artful design that had been shaped in the steamed milk is gone, reduced to nothing more than white foam. 

"You took a picture, right?" Usagi asks with a pout, as if she hadn't seen him do exactly that just a few minutes ago. 

"Of course I did," he answers nonetheless, sipping at her mango juice without hesitation. "It was the cat design. So we have one more chance to get the rabbit."

"To maybe get the rabbit," she points out doubtfully. "There are six designs, right? We might not get it at all. Maybe we'll get the rat, instead."

"Two eternal rivals, with a history of bad blood between them and no end in sight... Let's hope not. We've had plenty of that, this week." 

And oh, there's something to pop the bubble of this dream, a reminder of the world outside and the struggles they're facing. Usagi's smile slips for a second, but only a second. 

"Rivals who are starting to understand each other, or didn't you see the new chapter? An eternal rivalry that we're starting to understand, and that we might see the end of. I think it'd be a good sign - even if the rat would be a  _ lot _ less cuter than the rabbit!"

They've been looking forward to this date for weeks, the way they look forward to every date that isn't at his house or hers, that's more than just spending time together at home. She's not letting anything ruin it, especially not cynicism. Especially not Mamochan's  _ own _ cynicism. She's going to cheer him up, even if she has to force-feed him the cheer. 

"It's been a hard week, and the heat hasn't helped anything, but we're all still here, aren't we?"

"We are," Mamoru agrees, and his expression flickers back into something positive. "Everybody's still here is always something to celebrate."

"Exactly! And it's impressive this time, because I really thought Rei-chan or Minako-chan were going to do something…" she trails off for a moment, looking for a word less scary and permanent than the ones that immediately pop to mind. "Impulsive?"

There's laughter, quiet and genuine, from the other side of the table, before Mamoru admits, "Me too. Especially when they decided to go up to the roof."

"I still can't believe you let them go up there! But...it all worked out, I just can't believe Rei-chan talked to a  _ boy  _ for that long without doing something crazy."

"Maybe the ghost-ness cancelled out the boy-ness?" He proposes, and Usagi contemplates that for a moment, before shaking her head. 

"Wouldn't a ghost be like pure, concentrated essence of boy?"

And he laughs, like the idea just surprised the sound right out of him, and between his laughter he manages to get out, "Looks like you've connected the dots."

They're both still giggling when their server arrives, barring a platter loaded down with the menu special - one of every food dish on the menu, except for the desserts, which would come later. The server glances at them, half concerned, half that sort of indulgent good humor that seemed to fill the hearts and minds of anyone who came across a young couple in love having a good time and they're quick to offer their thanks for the food. They order their new drinks, too - a black sesame latte for Mamoru, and an ice lemonade for Usagi. 

When the server is gone, the two of them look over the sea of dishes in awe. There's deep brown curry, the scent savory and strong and the surface dotted with vegetables and potatoes, a portion of rice shaped like a kitty cat head in the center. There's a pair of rice balls with little smiling faces and a dish of miso, a little platter of toppings set to the side. There's a heart shaped okonomiyaki that's so cute Usagi begs Mamoru to take a picture of it first, before they dust it with bonito flakes and ruin the prettiness. There's a hot dog and fries and salad, already lightly coated in dressings, and Mamoru quickly removes that character cling first, before it can be dripped on. And lastly, a fluffy souffle pancake, covered in a layer of foamy whipped cream, cooked strawberries and a dish of light syrup on the side. 

Every single dish has a character cling to represent who inspired which dish, but honestly, they wouldn't have needed the visual reference to get it. Each one is an absolutely perfect choice. 

"Mamochan, I want to taste the curry, but then you can have it. Do you want a taste of the hot dog first?" Usagi is carefully rearranging the layout of the plates, rice balls and pancake and okonomiyaki in the middle, hot dog platter closer to her, curry closer to him.

"No, I think I'll be good with everything else," he declines. He's focusing on camera angles, getting pictures of their table as a whole and then each plate - a task which gets easier when Usagi starts helping, lifting the plates farther from him so he doesn't have to risk planting an elbow in anything. 

"You sure? It could be really good!" She's double checking, not because she doesn't believe him, but because this hot dog is about to be  _ gone _ . 

"I'm sure. We still have two dessert dishes and two drinks to go."

So they eat, conversation put aside except for exclamations about how good everything tastes, demands that something be sampled ‘right now, oh my gosh, you have to taste this!!!’, and a shared gasp of awe when the syrup poured over the whipped cream coated pancake ‘melts’ away the ‘snow’ of the cream to reveal the golden-brown surface. 

“It really does make spring,” Usagi murmurs, and her hand finds Mamoru’s through the maze of dishes atop the table. It seems silly, to find hope in such a small thing, but the reminder that spring comes, that these chaotic times will pass, it’s feels so very necessary. 

“It does. Usako – I’m sorry. I should have told you about them at the beginning. I just…” He trails off, shaking his head. 

Usagi feels her smile slip, and she squeezes his hand. It’s not fine. She can’t say it is. But it’s been a long week, and even if they all have plenty of hard, awkward conversations ahead of them, she thinks she’s gotten the hardest, and most awkward of them all, behind her. And she thinks, maybe this will be a good thing. 

No. 

It will definitely be a good thing.

“I wish you had too,” she says first, because that’s the truth, and hiding truths is how they got into this. “But I’m not mad. I guess I just… want to know why. Was it me? Did I… do something? Make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

“No. No, not at all,” Mamoru says, and the words spill out of him so quickly that she’s sure they must be true. “It was all me. I was afraid, because telling you would make it real, and sometimes it feels like…"

"Like?" 

"It feels like I already have too much, sometimes. Like I've managed to collect more than I'm due, and if I'm not careful, the universe will come along and fix that. And I if I told you, if I talked about it, this would all be real, the four of them being back, the four of them being my friends, it would be real. It would be something I could lose. And that scares me."

This isn't easy for him to admit. She knows it isn't, because she can see his expression tightening up with every word, his eyes dropping to their food and refusing to meet her own, and Usagi is reminded, not for the first time, that everyone she loves is at least kinda emotionally constipated, and how  _ proud _ she is of every one of them for getting through that. 

"This is real," she says, and though her tone is gentle, there's a finality to each word that can't be denied. A sense of 'and that's that on that' she hopes he won't be able to deny. "And  _ nothing  _ is going to take this away from you. Okay? I'm your family, and so are the girls, and so are they, so that makes them like my weird relatives that I talk to every few months and send cards to at New Year's and who send me gifts that I don't really know if I  _ want _ but aren't so bad that I want to offend them by refusing and… Mamochan, don't laugh!"

Oh my gosh! How could he! Laugh at her! At a time like this?!

But she's smiling too, her cheeks aching with how wide her smile is as Mamoru holds her hand and laughs and laughs. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasps between breathless bursts of laughter, "It's just, you make it sound so easy, and that makes me realize it can be that easy."

"It does?" She asks, skeptical.

She would be less skeptical if he wasn't laughing. Maybe he realizes that, because he takes a moment to catch his breath, lifting her mango juice to his mouth and sipping at what's left, and she's about to tell him not to choke when he pushes the glass away and does just that, a napkin snatched from the table and held up to his lips as an attempt to drink and giggle at the same time leaves him wheezing. 

"Mamochan!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he rasps, face screwed up with laughter. "You're right, and you make it sound so easy, but I, I just - imagined what Kenji-san would have to say if they all showed up to give you New Year's gifts and I could just picture his  _ face  _ -"

Oh no.  _ Oh no _ ! Now that he's said it, so can she, and it's a struggle to keep a straight face of her own, all of a sudden, a struggle not to picture her Papa marching right up to Kunzite and staring him down. She can picture his voice, stern and reedy, as he demanded to know their intentions in talking to his little girl. 

"I'd almost feel bad for them," she giggles. 

"I wouldn't! He grilled me for three hours after we finally told your parents we were dating. Can you imagine what he'd say if you made  _ four _ male friends who weren't Umino?"

"Yes," Usagi says, the best of scenes playing out in her mind's eye like a movie. "First he'd tell them about the dangerous places he's reported from and then he'd end up making sure they thought that he has a gun around the house somewhere."

"You're right," Mamoru says, visibly thinking about it. "But he doesn't, right?"

"Huh?"

"Kenji-san doesn't  _ actually  _ have a gun to use on men want to join your family, right?"

"Mamochan," she has to and stare. "Mamochan what exactly did papa tell you?"

"I'd tell you, but then he'd have to kill me."

"Mamochan…"

"I'm serious!, Usako, I made a promise to your dad, and I have to keep up my end of the deal."

"But!"

"If I tell you, he'll have to kill me."

"Mamochan!"

There's absolutely no doubt that people from all over the cafe are staring at them, the young couple at the corner table laughing and teasing each other over their spread of half-finished dishes. But neither of them minds, not today, not now. It's been such a long week, testing their nerves, and today, today, everything is okay. 

Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow will be  _ the  _ day. 

But today is all for them, and they'll enjoy it. 

Across the city, in houses and at grocery stores and leaning against rooftops, that's what everyone is doing. The end of the school week, the end of the wait, and each occupying themselves as they prepare for the challenge ahead. 

At the roof of Mamoru's apartment building, the Shitennou stand together, their stones carefully hidden away from potentially prying eyes, speaking in quiet tones, light shining through their translucent forms as they sit on the roof. There's no one there to see them, no weight of endless guilt on their shoulders - no confessions need to be made, at least, not to each other. 

They look to tomorrow with mixed feelings and faint hopes. 

In a grocery store far from the cafe, Ami and Makoto weigh out their choices on ingredients for a picnic lunch. The makings of sandwiches and rice balls have already been selected - it's fruit and sweets that occupy them now. Ami lifts a melon and Makoto mimes striking it with a stick. They laugh, and the melon is carefully lowered into the basket.

Tomorrow will be a good day. They are determined to make it so.

Together in the main room of Hikawa Shrine's living quarters, Rei and Minako sit across from Grandfather Hino, hands clasped beneath the table. Despite years of fighting and all her experience with terrifying encounters, somehow it’s this moment here, being introduced to Rei’s Grandfather not as her friend, but as her girlfriend, that’s the most frightening of them all. 

Rei squeezes her hand, and Minako smiles in spite of her fear. Tomorrow can wait. Today is a day worth having.


	6. Rocks Upon A Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they hit the beach.

Saturday comes bright and hot, the sun scorching the earth before it even fully appears in the sky. It's hours before most of them would usually be awake, and even those few who enjoy being awake for the dawn probably can't deny a certain amount of groggy discomfort. But today is the day, the day that they've spent the week thinking about, stressing about, looking forward to and dreading alike. 

Today is the day the Sailor Senshi (and yeah, the Shitennou too) go to the beach. 

And that is something worth waking up at the crack of dawn and trekking to the train station. It really is. 

Really!

Even if, at the moment, Usagi is sort of waiting all alone, yawning into her hand and looking around in every direction, but especially the ones her friends are most likely to be coming from. There are people all around her, coming to the station and leaving it, but none of them are the people she's on the look out for, and maybe she's just a teeny bit anxious. There's no reason to be, not really. 

It's not like there's a chance someone won't show up. There isn't. She knows, because she checked, called everyone to make sure that they were still coming, and made sure that Mamoru checked and double checked his rock box to ensure none of the Shitennou stones had managed to sprout legs and run off and hide somewhere. 

(Mamochan had stared at her like she'd said something silly when she made the request, so she'd repeated herself with her most serious face, and asked if that really seemed all that impossible, in their lives.

He hadn't really been able to say no. With everything they'd seen and done and fought, his already magical rocks growing legs and walking away isn't really _impossible_. 

She'd told him not to tell the Shitennou about it, just in case it gave anyone ideas. Growing legs and growing eyes might be two totally different things, and she'd bet Zoisite would wander off even without eyes.

Mamochan had asked why she was so sure that was something _ Zoisite _ in particular would try, she'd said he just seemed like the kind of guy who'd be sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that idea. He'd laughed a little and said she wasn't wrong. It had been easy and comfortable to talk about, and maybe those conversations with Luna and Nephrite had had some positive results after all.)

So everyone is supposed to be coming, and truthfully, no one is late yet, because she is early, because Luna had been happy to jump on top of her chest and yell, "Usagi-chan you're late!" at the top of her lungs to wake her up, just like Usagi had told her too. It had been worth it, even if there had been a good three minutes where she could barely breathe and just laid there gasping, Luna's whole weight pressing down on her chest, her paws squishing her cleavage. It turns out that an eight pound cat can indeed knock the wind right out of you. Who would have guessed?

But again, it had been worth it, because Usagi is here early and is therefore the exact opposite of late. 

Now she's just waiting, for everyone else, at the train station. She has their tickets, because they had all agreed that whoever got their first would pick up the tickets so that way if anyone was running late there wasn't any chance that they'd miss the train. 

(She had resented the fact that everyone had automatically looked at her when they decided on this. Minako-chan is late just as often as she is, she just covers it up better!)

So she has the tickets, she has herself, she has her swimsuit and beach towel rolled up in her cute bunny backpack, and she's just waiting for -

A flash of blue, in the corner of her eyes, and a smile breaks across her face. 

\- for that, actually!

"Oh, Ami-chan! Mako-chan! Over here!" 

Usagi jumps up and down, waving her arms in the air to make absolutely, positively sure that her friends can't possibly miss her, no matter how many other people walk in front of or around her, no matter that they're still at the other end of the street. She's only just caught sight of them coming around a corner, and so there's still half a whole Street between them, so it's entirely possible that they could manage to not hear her. 

"Aaamiiii-chaaaan!! Maaaakooooo-chaaaaan!"

Entirely, theoretically, possible. 

"Usagi-chan!"

"Oh, Usagi-chan! Good morning!"

The smile spreads wider, until Usagi is grinning from ear to ear. She glances at the empty streets - it's so early in the morning that the traffic is pretty nil - and then darts across, backpack bouncing against her back as she runs. 

"W-what are you doing Usagi-chan? There's no crosswalk there!" 

Haha, silly Ami-chan! It's too late for worrying about things like 'is there a crosswalk'! She's already across the street, and totally unharmed, see? 

"Don't worry, I looked both ways!" Usagi says cheerfully, all too happy to dismiss that little concerns. "Can I help you guys carry anything? I'm glad you're here, I've been waiting here forever!"

"I thought we were still early?" Makoto asks, her brows creasing with confusion. "If you want to take this tin, that would help

But be careful! There are cookies in there."

"Cookies?!" The tin box atop the cooler bag in Makoto's arms is suddenly the most interesting thing she's ever seen. The Jaws theme practically hums in the background, as Usagi draws closer to it, arms held up to grasp at both the tin and its delicious contents alike. 

Contents which are hoisted higher up, out of Usagi's reach. Makoto frowns and Usagi is very aware that the only reason she isn't wagging a finger is because she doesn't have one free. "Cookies for _ lunch _, not for now. I know exactly how many I made, Usagi-chan."

A gasp of scandalized horror. 

"_ Mako-chan _," Usagi breathes, clutching her chest. "I would never!"

Just, ignore all the times she has, and will do so in the future.

"Right," Makoto says, and her doubt is hurtful, just absolutely hurtful. She lowers the cooler again though, and the tin is within reach, so Usagi grabs at it with eager hands - and yelps as she early drops it, her elbows buckling under the weight. It's _ heavy _, like maybe five kilograms heavy. Makoto yelps too, her voice fearful, but she can't do anything to help with her hands full. "Usagi-chan! Be careful!"

Luckily, Ami is there too, and with an eep of surprise, she's lunging forward to keep the tin from hitting the ground. The bag hanging off her arms sloshes a little as she does, but between the two of them the cookie tin is saved. Usagi heaves a deep sigh of relief - that had been terrifying, hearing the cookies inside that tin box shift and shake, and knowing she was about to ruin ages of hard work. Ami helps her get the box tucked into her arms, and she's able to stand, box in hand. 

And able to complain. "How many cookies did you _ make _ Mako-chan?" 

Yes, in this case, it's a complaint. 

"Plenty," Makoto says defensively. "We're going to be out all day, and there's sand everywhere, so if something falls, you can't just five second rule it -"

"I can hear your judgement, and there's nothing wrong with the five second rule!"

"There's everything wrong with the five second rule, and that is _ especially _ true at the beach. Or are you telling me you'd eat a cookie covered in sand?"

She has to think about it for a second. No one should judge her for this. 

"No," she admits, finally. "Not if there was sand on them."

"And that's why there are so many. Because I'm sure that a quarter of them will end up lost to the sand and birds."

"Birds?" Usagi has to ask, because she doesn't understand. She's not feeding her cookies to the birds. 

"Birds," Ami confirms, and her free hand cups her cheek as she sighs. "The birds at the coast tend to exhibit ferocious appetites and minimal fear of humans. They'll surely seek to pounce on any fallens cookies, and even ones held in a careless hand. And what's worse, our unwilling sacrifices are sure to make them grow ever more bold."

"I'm not feeding cookies to the birds," Usagi confirms, "Especially if they're mean jerk birds. I don't even give _ Luna _ cookies -"

"Which is good, because they would surely be terrible for her digestive system -"

"And _ she _can talk and complain about the cat food my papa used to buy her. I'm not letting dumb birds eat the cookies Mako-chan worked so hard to make for us!" Sheer indignation gives her the strength to stand upright under the weight of so many cookies, one finger pointed to the sky as she delivers her vow. 

Makoto leans over to Ami and whispers, "Let's let her have this one. She's got the spirit."

And Usagi is kind and gracious enough to pretend she didn't even hear it. Instead, she walks to the side of the road and glances back at her friends. 

"Let's go! If we wait by the train station, we can see all the streets everyone will come from. That's how I saw you guys, and I want to make sure Rei-chan knows that _ I _ was here first."

Except, just as she takes the first step off the pavement,

"Wait!"

There's Ami-chan yelling at her. Usagi freezes in place, looking at Ami with big eyes. "What?!"

"We are _ not _ crossing the street outside of a crosswalk! If a car comes, we can't rush out of the way burdened like this, and even if we could, it would be _ illegal _. We are not breaking the law for a minor convenience."

"But being there before Rei-chan isn't a convenience, it's a necessity -"

"Usagi-chan, I can't believe you aren't late." 

No. 

"I was sure you'd be the last person here, but I guess that's Mamoru-kun."

_ No. _

"So do you all need some help with all that? We could lend a hand."

_ It can't be. _

And yet, when Usagi slowly turns, cookie tin clutched in her clenched hands, she sees that it is. For there, across the street and by the train station she had so willingly abandoned, is Rei, with Minako at her side, casually holding her hand. 

There's a smile on Rei's face. A smug smile, Usagi's mind reads, and disbelief twists her guts. 

"How did you get over there without us seeing you?!" She demands. Their voices are pitched loud by necessity, a conversation carried out across two lanes of absent traffic. 

"Grandpa dropped us off," Rei shrugs, and her smile widens. "I didn't realize you were here until Minako-chan said something."

"Yeah! So do you guys need help, or are you just standing at the side of the road for nothing?"

Usagi just gurgles in abject denial. Makoto, standing at her side and shifting her feet to orient the weight, just shakes her head. "Between the three of us, we should have it. Usagi-chan already came over to take some of the weight off."

Rei's surprise radiates from her face, even from this distance. Usagi can't look away. "So you all didn't come together? Good on you for helping then, Usagi-chan. If you're sure, we'll hold the door for you all."

_ Good on _ \- no! No! "Hey, no, I was - I was here -" her sputtering efforts to claim her rightful place as first aren't making it out. Her shock at this upset is too great, and the weight in her arms too heavy. Her arms tremble as she stares across the street, watching even when Ami jostles her lightly so that they can get on with walking to the crosswalk. How could this happen? She was here _ first _. She got here early! She stood there waiting! So how did - why does - 

_ How come Rei-chan gets to stand there and say she's proud of her, when she was here before Rei-chan! _

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a part of her brain notices that Rei and Minako are still holding her hands. Her eyes have noticed this, of course, but the greater part of her brain is so focused on her stinging loss that she hasn’t registered it. Girls hold hands all the time when they walk around town or go shopping or live life, it doesn’t matter, right? And so only this small part of her brain, the 'notices things but doesn't always understand them' part, is doing any kind of thinking about what this could possibly mean. After all, Rei hated holding hands with friends cutely, and Usagi would know, because she's tried to do it with her before, and gotten rejected every single time, but there she is. Still holding hands with Minako-chan, almost like she doesn't even realize what she’s doing, except of course she has to. 

She has to, because she's Rei-chan, and even more importantly, that’s Minako-chan, and they almost never did anything by accident for real, not ever. 

But only that small, small part of Usagi's brain is aware of this. Everything else is huffing and puffing and stomping because _ how did this happen? _ Nothing will be processed until this grievance is solved. 

So she books it across the street the very second the light changes, cookie tin held close to her chest so it doesn’t jostle and jolt. It’s hot and the very act of running is making her shirt stick to her back and her backpack bounce against it, but none of that matters. 

“Rei-chan! I was here first!”

Rei’s eyes widen in false innocence. She places her free hand on her chest. “What, really? Are you sure, because when Minako-chan and I got here, there was no one in front of the station.”

“It’s true,” Minako-chan agrees, a broad smile on her face. “There was no one here, and this _ is _ where we’re supposed to meet.”

“Well, I was here first! I had to go and help Ami-chan and Mako-chan -" 

"Soooo, you left?" Minako-chan again, and her grin is somehow even wider. She flings an arm over Rei's shoulder and steps in closer to her, which puts her closer to Usagi too. 

Rei rolls her eyes a little, but doesn't object to being used as a stand. "It does sound like you left."

"Maybe I did, but I was still here first!" There are footsteps behind her, as Makoto and Ami catch up and rejoin them. "Ami-chan, Mako-chan, tell them I was here first!"

"Does it - really - matter?" Ami asks, out of breath and sounding it. She puts the bag swinging from her arm down, and remains bent over for a moment, clutching her knees, breathing deep. Being a superhero did not mean a person was in shape, it just meant they got very used to being tired. Usagi can relate, honestly. She might fight a whole squad of youma in one night, but she'll never pass the fifty meter dash. 

But she can't relates right now! "Of course it matters! I was first!"

"She was first," Makoto repeats dryly, putting her own bag down, the insulated material of the cooler bag bulging little from how full it is. "And it counts even if she left, because she got the tickets."

"She did?" Rei asks in surprise, and honestly! Of course she did!

"We said that whoever was first would grab tickets," Usagi huffs, "So of course I got them! That was the deal."

"Well, that's truuuue," Minako drawls, "But none of us thought _ you'd _ be first, Usagi-chan. I was sure it'd be Mamoru-kun! I'm glad I didn't take that bet."

"No one offered a bet?" Ami points out, and she's caught her breath enough that she can straighten up, her confusion painted on her face.

"Exactly!" Minako laughs, and there's really nothing for anyone, even Usagi, to do but laugh along with her. 

She was here first, and all her girls are here, and they're just waiting for Mamoru and his minivan-esque box of rock boys, so the day can really begin. What's there to feel bad about?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

And with that thought in mind, she finally, _ finally _, processes what that small part of her brain has been picking up all along. It's probably not really that impressive, the fact that she recognizes it now, but hey. At least she recognized it. And in traditional Usagi fashion, she has no choice but to speak her mind.

"Rei-chan! How come you never let _ me _ hold your hand?"

All eyes snap to Rei and Minako. Correction: all eyes but Rei's snap to Rei and Minako. Rei's eyes rise to the sky, as if maybe she's thinking that the heavens themselves could possibly save her from this. 

Silly Rei-chan. 

Nothing can save her.

Especially not Minako-chan, whose face distorts for a second in an expression almost like panic before her own eyes are fixed on Rei, her smile gone from megawatt to sly. 

"What's that all about, Rei-chan? You mean_ I'm _the only one who gets to hold your hand?" Minako asks, and Usagi squints, because she hadn't really put it together like that before, but - that's a really, really good point. She can see that she isn't the only one registering that, because Ami is looking (no, she's staring; looking is far too casual to describe the penetrating nature of those eyes) between the two of them, going from Rei to Minako and back, and so, of course, is Makoto, whose squinting expression is hinting that she's got an idea. 

For her part, Rei doesn't really say anything at all, her pale skin slowly going fire hydrant red from the neck up. She opens her mouth, only to quickly snap it shut, biting her lip as if to prevent a repeat. Her eyes have not fallen from the skies above, never mind that her prayers are obviously not being answered -

"Everyone! Sorry that I'm late, but I hope I'm still on - am I interrupting something?" 

The tension breaks. Everyone's focus breaks too, as they all - but especially Usagi - look into greet the newcomer. 

"Mamochan!"

And for the moment, that's Rei and Minako's surprising behavior forgotten all over again, at least by Usagi. She runs over to him, her arms open as she goes to tackle him with a hug -

"Wait, Usako, I'm holding -"

And there's a splatter as a paper coffee cup hits the ground, the contents spilling everywhere as Mamoru makes the sacrifice in favor of catching his speeding girlfriend. 

"Coffee," he finishes, but Usagi is busy greeting him with all her most loving, compassionate words. 

"Everyone said I was going to be late, but I was here _ first _ and you were last! Can you believe it? I've got our tickets to go and everything!"

The remnants of the coffee are wet and slippery under foot, and Usagi might have been nervous about taking a fall if Mamoru's arms hadn't been wrapped _ tightly _ around her, obviously making sure the loss of his coffee wouldn't be immediately pointless. 

"I think I have to believe it, since I'm the last one," he says tactfully, and she beams her delight. 

"That's true, that's true! You are the last one, and we were starting to get a little worried, except - Rei-chan!" That little gasp of remembrance is the death of Rei's unspoken hopes. "You never answered my question!"

"What question?" Mamoru asks, clueless. He's quiet about it though, and all while they've talked, he's been walking them forward, so it's perfectly easy to believe that the question he's asking isn't really for Usagi to answer, but for Ami or Makoto. 

Too bad, because Usagi is in earshot too, and for all her emotional intelligence, tact isn't high up on her list of strong suits. 

"I was asking Rei-chan how come she lets Minako-chan hold her hands when she turns _ me _down every time!" She exclaims, and the blush that had just started to die away comes roaring back to Rei's face. 

"Usagi-chan," Rei manages in a strangled voice, but it's _ all _ she manages, before it's her looking Minako in something like panic this time, her eyes wide and pleading. 'Help me!' those eyes say, in a tiny little voice, like a cute little mouse, 'help!'

And Minako must, because she nods, just a little, and she turns to them all, and she hasn't really removed her arm from about Rei's shoulders, so when she faces them completely, Rei, by necessity, has to do the same. Her face is more serious than usual, but there is still a small smile there, a small hint of pure happiness Usagi's surprised to realize she isn't used to seeing. 

"Because her hands are busy with mine," she says, and her smile is growing now, "and they're going to be busy with mine for a long time, because we're dating, and my hands get cold, and I don't want to share."

Usagi's jaw drops. A thousand dozen little moments suddenly flood across her mind, odd snippets of conversations and group photos taken standing close together and sides taken in arguments and fights, all of it crystalizing into this single, obvious picture. There is really only one thing to do, and that's _ shriek _ in pure excitement as she rushes from Mamoru's arms to throw her arms around Rei and Minako, bouncing up and down in excitement. She's vaguely aware of the surprised-but-not-surprised looks on everyone else's faces, of the noises that are probably, possibly words that they're making, but she is a pure bundle of excited energy. 

"How long? Oh my gosh, how long, why didn't you tell me, this is so cute,_ you're so cute _, Rei-chan, Minako-chan, you have to tell us everything, I can't believe you didn't tell us sooner -"

"Breathe Usako," Mamoru pipes up suddenly, and his hand is rubbing her back, and she's abruptly aware that she hasn't taken a breath to fill up the air she's lost spilling out all those questions. Her lungs thank her for the breath she sucks in, and her cheeks are already starting to hurt from her smile, and her arms are tight around Rei and Minako, who both move to hug her back. The result of this, of course, is that Ami and Makoto rush in to offer hugs too, and for another minute or so they're all just hugging each other and offering congratulations and excitement. 

The world is good, and warm, and bright. 

"Last call! This is the last call, train to Hayama City departing in two minutes!"

And so of course chaos must strike. That's _ their _train, because Hayama City is where Isshiki Beach is located, and Isshiki Beach is their destination, and suddenly, all questions have to fall to the wayside. The cooler bags Makoto and Ami carried in are grabbed, backpacks are hurriedly adjusted, a cookie tin is remembered, and then our six heroes are rushing through the station doors, all their tickets clad in Usagi's tight-fisted hand. 

They make it. Just barely, but they make it, and once they're seated, sprawled together across two aisles of chairs, all they can do is laugh in breathless excitement. 

Laugh, and shower Rei and Minako with questions, that is. 

* * *

"Well, here we are," Mamoru says, aware it's unnecessary and unable to help himself anyway. This close to the ocean, the heat is a thing of the past - it's a little cooler here, less of Tokyo's horrible combination of heat and humidity and more refreshing breezes and salty air thrown into the mix. They stand at the edge where street gives way to sand, and look at the beach spread out before them, and the ocean beyond it, blue sky above and white-capped blue waves below.

It's a beautiful day. 

"The first thing we need to do is figure out where we're setting up!" That's Minako taking charge. Along the ride she'd ended up with Ami's cooler bag, and now she has it and her own bulging bag slung over her shoulder. "There aren't too many people here, what with it being so early, so we've got plenty of spaces to choose from. I say we pick a spot between lifeguard towers, so we don't get stuck by all the kids and families. Like over there!"

She points to a swath of land a good two hundred meters from them at the diagonal. Predictably, there's a volleyball court in the area, but it's also almost dead center between two lifeguard towers, devoid of other beach-goers, and at a slope in the sand that seemed like it would let the ocean open right up before them. It's a good looking spot, and Mamoru offers no objections to it, merely grabbing up his dropped supplies to carry on. 

His most important cargo is safely stored in his backpack, but the collapsible tent and beach umbrella he'd brought are pretty important too, if he says so himself. For one thing, no one will need to change in one of the public bathrooms. 

No one else offers an objection either, and so Usagi throws out an enthusiastic, "Let's go then!" 

She charges on ahead, her backpack on her back and Makoto's tin of cookies in her arms, sandals slap-slap-slapping against the sand and sending little clouds of the stuff flying up. 

"Why don't we go a bit slower than that," Rei suggests, her tone dry. Her bag is bulging with extra towels and other essentials, and the edges of her red sundress blow in the wind. 

"That sounds perfect," Makoto laughs, lifting a hand to share her eyes so she can better watch Usagi go. "When do you think she'll realize she doesn't have a blanket with her?"

"Not until she's arrived at her chosen spot, I'm sure," Ami sighs. She's the first to start following after Usagi, walking sedately in the trail made by those fast-flying feet. Mamoru follows after her, and before long they're all walking along, admiring the ocean, the breeze, and most crucially, the shoreline. 

Naturally, this leads to discussion, and Mamoru is, for the most part, content to let everyone's voices wash over him.

"I'm just saying, since we'll be here all day we might as well pick a nice spot kind of inland, just so that tide doesn't come wash us away!"

He doesn't think that's entirely how tides work. 

"The tide isn't going to just come and wash us away, not until evening -"

It's been a while since he studied the rides, really, but be could have sworn the schedule didn't _ have _ to begin in the evening.

"Well, actually the tidal forecast for today predicts high tide will begin at around sixteen hundred hours and twelve minutes, so there is reason to be at least slightly wary about the coming of the tide -"

It's good to know that he had that right, honestly. Ami's presence in this conversation means he doesn't have to feel any responsibility for correcting misconceptions - when she's around, he can be sure that will happen. He might have been tempted to correct someone just so they had the right idea, but Ami? Ami could be _ ruthless _ in her corrections, a skill he admires and has no real interest in cultivating.

"Hurry up you slowpokes!" Interrupts the conversation, and when Mamoru looks up, he notices that they've gotten much closer to Usagi, with just a good twenty or thirty meters between her and the rest of them. She's taken her backpack off and dropped it into the sand, the tin of cookies safely balanced atop, and she's waiting for them, waving one arm eagerly. 

Makoto stifles a laugh, and when he looks over to her, he notices she's started walking a little faster. The same can be said for him, actually - his stride automatically lengthening at the sound of her voice, his grip tightening on the items in his hands. 

"We're almost there!" She shouts back, and he can tell the only reason she isn't cupping her hand for the call is because she doesn't have one free. 

Rei, burdened with nothing that occupies her hands, lives that glorious dream for Makoto, both of said hands cupped before her mouth like a megaphone so she can shout, "We're on our way!"

Her voice is almost but not quite as loud as Usagi's, and yet, still so incredibly loud that everyone who _ was _on the beach is definitely looking their way now, checking out the teenagers ruining the peace of the morning. Mamoru can feel himself turning red, and he hurries along, shuffling through the sand so that he can get to Usagi as quickly as possible. His hope is to avert a second round of back and forth dialogue communicated at a sound level roughly equivalent to a jet plane taking off. 

In that goal, he succeeds. "Usako," he huffs as he arrives, steps stilted and legs heavy, backpack and tent and umbrella weighing him down. "Would you mind -"

"Oh! I've got it Mamochan!" She darts towards him, grabbing the bag with the collapsible umbrella from his arms, and then, with effort, helping him lower the tent's bag to the ground too. It's like the weight of the world coming off his shoulders, to get rid of that strain, and Mamoru wipes his forehead with the back of one hand, stretching shoulders back and chest out until he feels his vertebra crack one by one. He sighs in relief. 

Usagi giggles, "Oh gross! Did you get stiff like that from the ride over?"

"The ride, carrying that stuff, getting up even earlier than usual - ah, Mako-chan I'm sorry, let me help!"

The sound of shuffling sand has reminded him that they _ aren't _ the only people on this trip, and that he should spread the wealth, as it were, and help everyone else free of their burdens. 

Getting everything settled in one spot, and then unpacked, and then assembled easily consumes a good forty-five minutes. They work diligently - Mamoru, and Makoto and Rei assembling the tent, Ami, Minako and Usagi laying out the blankets and separating 'lounging' beach towels from 'drying' beach towels, and then, once a good foundation of coverage has been established, stabbing the umbrella into the middle of it all and extending it. 

This part takes a few tries, and maybe, just maybe, it's a little cruel for Mamoru, Makoto, and Rei to just let them suffer, but that is exactly what they do, keeping a straight face and focusing on the tent... even after they have the tent assembled, and a little pop up table that Mamoru had remembered standing up too.

Eventually, a cry rings out. "Victory! Victory over umbrella kind!"

It's Minako, standing posed with her foot lightly resting atop one of the cooler bags, her fist raised to the sky and the other planted on her hip. Usagi is holding a beach towel behind her, so it flows in the wind like a cape. 

Both of them are inexplicably covered in sand. 

Ami is hiding her face in her hands, laughing so hard Mamoru is worried for a second she might not be able to breathe.

"Okay, after all that, I think we all deserve a snack," Makoto announces, to general (if scattered) applause. "Usagi-chan, where'd the cookie tin go?"

"It's weighing down the other end of the blanket! We need all your shoes to help us hold down these things."

"Weighing down - it's not that heavy!"

"It is," everyone choruses together, having each gotten a chance to lift the huge tin on the ride over. Ostensibly, this was to help. Really, this was because they were all curious. Could it really weigh as much as it looked?

It could. It did.

"Then at least there should be enough to last the whole day. Even you guys can't eat that many cookies before we leave."

"Wanna bet?" Minako asks with a wicked grin. a little known fact is that her sweet tooth is almost as big as Usagi's. Mamoru is amazed they haven't both driven poor Makoto to quit baking with their endless appetites.

"No!"

"If you eat too many sweets, you'll get a cramp, and you'll never get to play volleyball." This sensible warning comes from Rei, who's emerged from the tent in her swimsuit - a red two piece with a bikini style top - and a pair of sunglasses. 

Minako laughs, and turns her head. "What? No way! A cramp wouldn't last all -" 

Mamoru could only describe the look on her face as besotted, his secret background of romance novels pulling through for him. He realizes that in all the years they've known each other, and with all the dates he seen her laugh about or run off too, this is the first time he's seen that particular look on her face. 

"Right," she says a second later, snapping her jaw shut. There's the faintest hint of a blush crawling up her cheeks. "You know what, I'm going to change too! I'll be right back! Mako-chan, don't let Usagi-chan eat all of them -!"

"I wouldn't do that -"

But she's gone, the tent zipped shut after her, and Rei smirks, smug. 

"Are we having cookies?"

In short order they're all ocean ready, four clad in bikinis, Ami in a striped blue and white one piece topped by a white sunhat, and Mamoru in a pair of trunks the same shade of green as his favorite and much despised jacket. 

The table that had been inside the tent has been brought outside of it, and the cooler bags containing all the goodies Makoto had brought are standing on top, cushioning a large, perfectly round watermelon. 

There's only one - well, four - pieces missing, and Mamoru is holding their box in his hands. 

"Are you sure you shouldn't be doing that in the tent?" Rei asks with a glance around them. 

Mamoru casts a glance of his own - there's still hardly anyone around. "I don't think anyone will notice."

"Four guys appearing out of nowhere is a little hard to miss," Makoto says, and then bites her lip, "Then again, we see people buy jewelry literally glowing with dark energy. Maybe we put too much faith in everyone's observation skills."

"As much as I hate to admit it, the evidence does trend in that direction," Ami admits, and while they're discussing the idea, Mamoru opens the box. The stones glint in the sunlight (actually, they sparkle, but Mamoru can just imagine how many protests he'd hear if he ever acknowledged that outloud, so he tries not to do it in his head, either.) 

He scoops them into his head, concentrating on keeping his energy from reaching the stones. 

"Um, Mamochan?" Usagi asks, and he looks up slowly, keeping his concentration. 

"Yes?" 

"Is there any chance they can all show up in uh, not uniform?" And that's a fair point, but luckily, one that he has covered. 

He hopes.

"That's what I'm about to make sure of," he says, infusing his voice with more confidence than he actually feels. He had tried this last night, to mixed results, but he thinks he has the hang of it now. He definitely has the hang of it now. 

The trick is to focus on one stone at a time and to try and get them on the same page. Even with all of them in hand, he just has to focus on the one - 

Kunzite's stone glows a pale pink, and he thinks ocean at him, thinks water and splashing and cracking open a watermelon, beach things, and he thinks Kunzite, thinks the happiness he'd felt on Thursday, when he said his name, and kept saying it, the new confidence he has that things we'll go their way -

The man appears, his skin as faintly translucent as always, clad in nothing but a pair of pale pink boarding shorts. 

He glances down at himself and sighs. "Close enough," he seems, and the girls shriek and laugh. 

"Nice shorts," Minako grins, and it's mockery, but the friendly sort. Mamoru sees it in his face when Kunzite decides to take this as a good thing. 

Rather than get distracted by the byplay however, he decides to focus on the next stone, repeating the process on Jadeite, who emerges in a pair of red trunks inexplicably patterned with Christmas ornaments - "I can accept this," - and Nephrite, who is the only one calm about his appearance in a bright blue speedo and absolutely nothing else. 

("Are you okay, Mako-chan?" He hears Ami whisper. 

"I'm fine, I just - wow," Makoto whispers back.)

And then there's just the one left, and it isn't as much effort to think beach thoughts and Zoisite thoughts and pull the two along with his energy as he calls his final guardian from stone. 

Zoisite appears in an old-fashioned men's one piece, the upper half akin to a tank top vertically striped red and white, the lower half a solid deep red, accented by a single white stripe along each thigh's seam. A white belt distinguishes upper half from lower half, and for a moment, everyone stares at him.

Zoisite himself stares down at the suit for a long, long moment, before lifting his gaze to Mamoru. 

"I need you to know, that were it not for the bonds of our friendship and the presence of your incredibly powerful girl squad, I would destroy you."

"That's fair," Mamoru agrees, as all around them the battle against laughter is lost, and lost hard. "That's perfectly fair."

* * *

  
[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/478d96cd1323fbe272b703098bceb3fc/332eb9f128a01fce-80/s1280x1920/ea3534912769c995f036bb77d8e6d8faba657b77.png%22)

“Ami-chan, come swim with us!” Minako shouts, and a portion of the wall that Ami has been building up crumbles in her hand as she jumps in surprise. 

"Oh no," she sighs. Well, there went five minutes of careful work building structural integrity. 

Jadeite, kneeling in the sand beside her, clicks his tongue. "It's not as bad as it looks?" 

Most of the wall still stands - two inches thick and constructed of carefully dampened-but-not-soaked sand, it would take more than a moment of carelessness to crumble - but the section she had been working on is definitely ruined. “No, it is. But perhaps it was a good thing. We can put a tower here, instead of lengthening the wall, and that will add to the structure as well as give it more detail.”

“Ami-chaaaaan!” 

“You might want to mention something about that to them though,” he adds. 

"Yes, you may have a point."

And yet, neither of them turns to her friends, focused instead on her hands, which are carefully scooping away the crumbled patch of wall, and working on creating a circular well of sand. This is critical for the base of her newest tower, which must be identical to the other two towers already standing. Rather than building on an unsteady foundation of soft, dry sand, it’s necessary to provide stability. For a sand castle, this means moisture. 

A scoop of roughly one hundred milliliters of water is gathered from her preparation bucket, and Jadeite leans in close as she pours the water over the well of sand and stirs the mix with her fingers. 

“Perfect consistency,” he compliments, “You know when this thing is done, it’ll outshine the Mona Lisa.”

Ami pauses. She looks up at him, her correction held at the tip of her tongue, and rolls her eyes when she sees him biting at the corners of his lips to keep his face unsmiling. It’s an admirable illusion, and if she hadn’t learned as much about his condition as she had from Zoisite, she’d think he really _ couldn’t _ avoid that small break his face. As it is, she sees no reason not to play along, and rolls her eyes. 

“You could have at least said the Sistine Chapel. I might have believed that boast.”

“But then you wouldn’t have given me that look, and then where would I get my daily dose of ‘are you sure you didn’t leave your brain in that rock’ looks?”

“I’m sure you’d find a substitute.”

“Well, maybe,” and Jadeite turns to the ocean, foot sliding back through their castle. He clips right through, like a glitching video game, and she barely bats an eye at it now - this is the fifth or sixth time it’s happened, and the panic has long since turned to casual amusement. Ami follows his gaze as he waves at the group splashing in the water - Minako and Makoto have waded out far, apparently giving Ami up as a lost cause, and the waves that crash over them are almost as tall as Minako is. Their shrieks of laughter as they’re pummeled with water are almost as loud as Nephrite’s, the speedo-clad Shitennou calling out the appearance of a new wave whenever one or both of the two Senshi are swept off their feet by the force of the water. 

They’re having fun, that much is undeniable.

Closer to the shore, Usagi and Rei are rushing over the sand in the seconds after the waves draw back, apparently racing each other for the chips of white shell that dot the sand. Ami makes a mental note to ask them for a few of those shells later, when the castle is closer to completion. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be out there?” He asks, and Ami shakes her head. 

“No. The ocean will be there all day, and to be honest, the sea breeze is doing a perfectly good job of keeping things cool. Once the tide comes in, this castle will be destroyed - “

“Should we have built it farther back?”

“No, no. Well - I suppose if we didn’t want it to be destroyed, we should have, but there’s something… fun, in watching the ocean slowly reclaim a castle, don’t you think?”

Maybe there isn’t, not really. Maybe it’s just her, and she’s failed to consider his feelings, and while, yes, she’s done all the actual work, that’s only because - 

“That’s true,” he says, before her thoughts can catastrophize further, and Ami blinks. 

“You agree?”

“Yeah, I get it. I like snowmen for the same reason,” and it’s such an unexpectedly normal answer that she can’t help but laugh a little. “Hey! Snow is an excellent medium for art, I’ll have you know.”

“No, no, I agree, I just - didn’t expect you to be the snowman building type, I suppose.” There didn’t seem to be enough - 

“That’s fair. You could hardly make enough of a profit margin for a small business built on it,” Jadeite says, looking entirely serious. “But I do, on very rare occasions, enjoy non-capitalist ventures. Don’t tell anyone. They’ll take my business management certification away.”

She laughs, because, well, that _ was _ exactly what she’d been thinking. “Of course. I’ll keep your secret, you can rest assured. I’d like to finish the castle before I get out there, but I’ll join them eventually.”

A shriek rings out, as a wave seems to toss Minako all the way back to the shore line. They both look up, watching as Usagi and Rei rush over to her - only to start shrieking themselves as she unleashes a barrage of splashes their way. 

“Eventually.”

* * *

“Okay, that’s enough getting thrown around for me,” Minako groans, and then laughs. She’s on her knees, water running down her back and sides. Her legs ache, not from the exertion, but from the sting of little micro-scrapes where she’s been shoved through the sand again and again. Her arms are feeling the same, and she’s pretty sure her bikini is full of sand, and by pretty sure, she means definitely sure, because well, she’s on her stomach in wet sand and there’s only one place for the sand to go. 

To one side of her is Makoto, sprawled on her back, and on the other side, Nephrite, standing watch. “You’ve got maybe a minute before the next big one comes,” he cautions, “So if you really don’t want to get dragged back out again, you might want to hop up now.” 

He’s right, and as the only person in their little trio who can’t be beaten around by the sand and surf, he’s like doubly right, but listen: moving hurts.

(Not like, really, but, let her have this, okay?)

So she just groans, and Makoto echoes her, and true to form, a minute later, the foam of the latest wave washes up and over them and there’s that good old fashioned instant regret. Tastes like salt water. 

Wonderful. 

“Alright, I’m getting up,” she sighs, and together, she and Makoto haul their tired, wet bodies out of the surf while Nephrite, the ghostly and thus perfectly refreshed lucky jerk, strolls along beside them, fresh as a newly fallen sakura petal. 

“That was fun,” he comments, grinning, “I’d offer you a hand if I had one but - “

“Nothing to worry about,” Makoto replies, shaking her head. Strands of hair have slipped free from her ponytail and cling to her forehead, and she brushes them aside with a little laugh. “You were plenty of help already. That last might have actually carried us away if you hadn’t warned us.”

“And even then it still knocked the both of us right off of our feet. It’s true, you did plenty,” Minako agrees. They trudge up the sand, back to base, and Minako reaches out to snag a cookie as she walks past, trying for sneaky, so that Makoto doesn’t notice - 

“Minako-chan, don’t you dare, you’ll drip over everything!”

Whoops!

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not doing anything,” she lies, like a liar, snagging three cookies and rushing away. Abandon stealth, abandon stealth, she has enough energy for this, she can run - 

She crams a cookie in her mouth and looks behind her, not slowing until she sees that Makoto has given up entirely on the idea of chasing after her. Heist successful! Now there’s just one thing to do...

“Rei-chan, want a cookie?” She asks as she sidles up to her, leaning in and grinning when Rei shoots her a put upon glance. It’s not that Rei doesn’t like water, it’s just that she doesn’t like water unless _ she’s _ decided to get into it. Minako knows this, accepts this, and can’t help but tease her anyway. 

Hey, she never said she was perfect!

She offers the cookie, sure that it will smooth things over, and hiding her smile when it totally does, Rei taking it with that little roll of her eyes that means ‘yes, fine, I’m going to continue being annoyed but I’ve totally forgiven you’. 

“Want to play volleyball?” She asks, once the cookie is bitten into. “I’m getting the feeling that _ this _ is going to take a little while.”

_ This _ is Usagi’s turn at smash the melon, which has gotten off to an entirely wrong start - mostly because Usagi is all the way turned around, and swinging the bat off in the direction of another beach towel, Mamoru chasing after her. 

“...sure, why not?”

* * *

"You know, when Mamoru said this would be a fun opportunity, I don't think this is what he had in mind."

"Does it matter? Watching _ this _ disaster unfold is way more entertaining than anything else this day can offer us."

Kunzite's disapproval is silent - but the problem with covering up a lifetime of emotional uncertainty with brooding silence and a stoic facade is that once you've spent a lifetime doing it, the people in your life know what's up.

Zoisite has known Kunzite for functional his entire life. The smattering of years before they met, in a distant time that doesn't exist in living memory save for the recollections of a double handful of unique individuals doesn't count. None of his tricks and secrets work on him. Kunzite's silent disapproval carried as much wait for him as a single feather falling from the sky, because he knows full well that Kunzite is just as amused by this as he is.

Who wouldn't be? It wasn't every day one got to sit back and watch a princess make a fool of herself.

From what he could tell, the purpose of the game was for participants to deliberately hinder themselves but wearing a blindfold and spinning about until they were almost too dizzy to stand, and then attempt to crack open a perfectly fine piece of fruit. Why they would want to do something like this oh, he didn't quite understand. It seemed a waste of fruit - surely no one was going to want a piece of melon that have been brutally whacked about. 

And yet his prince, and his prince's princess, along with Jupiter and Mercury, who he would have imagined had far more sense than this, were all eagerly making participants of themselves, with first Mamoru and then Mercury utterly failing to decimate the melon with the stick they'd apparently procured for this sole purpose. 

"Surely, we weren't this stupid when we were mortal."

"Usako! Wait! You're going in the wrong direction!"

It's not like Mamoru's efforts seem to be doing much good. Zoisite doesn't understand why he hasn't just stepped back to see what utter chaos his partner could unfold. Especially when the girl couldn't tell one direction from the next with that blindfold wrapped about her face. 

"What? Which way should I go then?" Moon yells back, and she abruptly swings around, nearly clobbering Mamoru with the pole in her hands. 

"Whoa! Careful!!" Mamoru shouts as he dodges. Actually, that's a lie, Zoisite has to admit. That wasn't anything so purposeful as a dodge, not even a duck, that was his prince flat out falling on his rear in the midst of a desperate escape. 

Beside him, Kunzite coughs, and it would be believable if it weren't for a simple fact. 

"Covering up your laughter with a cough would be more believable if we had lungs," Zoisite advises him casually. "You might want to think about that."

"My incorporeal lungs have managed to inhale a small and equally incorporeal amount of dust," Kunzite replies, his tone severe. "It is a condition that affects roughly twenty five percent of all stone-bound ghostly figures. You should look into it."

* * *

"Makoto-san, would you be willing to do me a small and frivolous favor?" This is more polite than Nephrite usually is, but there are three major factors that he's considering right now. 

The first is that he's asking a favor, and that means it's in his own best interest to add some deference to the mix of his usual behavior. The second is that the favor is a little risky, especially considering Mamoru's happy accident of pulling him out into the world in a speedo. Look, he's absolutely not going to complain about having almost every inch of his glorious body on display, not at the beach of all places, but even he can admit it makes a little thing like a personal favor sound automatically a little risque. And that leads right into the third: Makoto Kino could, would, and probably should, absolutely kick his ass. He does not want to be the idiot who tips 'probably should've to 'definitely should'. 

"Well, that depends on what it is," Makoto says lightly, but she's lowered the sandwich she's been slowly eating. 

It looks like a good sandwich. A really good sandwich, if he's honest, and that's not just because he hasn't eaten real food in three years, it's just - a good looking sandwich. Fluffy white bread, creamy egg salad base, chicken salad in the middle, the whole thing wrapped in lettuce leaves - a combination of the two best sort of cold sandwiches, in Nephrite's firm opinion. He wishes he could eat one too, and he's grateful that at least he can't torture himself with the smell. 

He kind of wishes he couldn't see right now, honestly. It'd give him an excuse not to be looking if this request goes over the wrong way.

"I was hoping you'd, maybe, out of the kindness of your heart… draw some abs on my rock?"

"On your - your rock?" Her brow creases with confusion, and yeah, okay, he can't blame her for that, this is a weird and confusing and probably totally abnormal request, but _ look _. 

"Yeah, this is weird, and I'm sorry about that, it's just - I wasn't really thinking about it until today, but I mean that body doesn't look like me. Sure, the head is almost as hard as mine, but it's missing like... everything else.and I can't really fix any of that on my own, or at all, but I don't know. maybe if it looks a little more like me, it'll feel a little more like me, and less like a sparkly little jail cell." the words escape him more honestly than he would have ever meant them to, not nearly enough casual irreverence, and way too much of a hint at helmet he totally hates the thing, but it works. 

Or at least, he thinks it does, if the sympathetic look now being thrown his way means anything.

"I'm not really much of an artist," Makoto says, her tone full of caution, "But if you don't mind that, I'd be willing to give it a shot."

"I couldn't draw my way out of a paper bag," he responds, a grin spreading over his face. "So that's definitely not a problem."

She smiles back, and not for the first time - the first time had been in the middle of that first conversation, when her face lit up with disbelief as he talked about food and she listened like she had nothing better to do than just listen to him talk, even though a girl like her _ had _ to have better things to do than put up with a guy like him - he notices how cute she is. If he had a body, and he didn't have leagues of shit to make up for with her friends, he might really think he had a shot. 

As it is, he's just glad she's willing to entertain him. 

He bows, one hand folded over his middle, all courtly-like except for the fact that he was buck-ass naked besides this tiny scrap of fabric Mamoru had called a speedo. "If you'll follow me?"

* * *

"Okay, so, nobody panic," Usagi says, and of course, everyone immediately stares at her with the most worried looks she's ever seen. Come on guys, she said _ not _ to panic! The idea that she could have opened this situation better, to prevent exactly this, does not and will not occur to her. Especially not right now, with an anxious ghost blond hovering at her side. "So! I have an announcement to make, ahaha...ha…"

Oh how is she supposed to say this? Especially with everyone, and she means _ everyone _ in their group staring at her. She rubs her hands together, trying to dispel some of her nervous energy. Okay so, maybe this is in fact, panic worthy. In fact, maybe it's so panic-worthy that her ghostly companion is freaking out a little himself. 

Of course, it _ is _ his life at risk, so maybe that's not exactly unreasonable. 

"So," she repeats, and claps her hands, "It turns out that, uh…"

"Oh, spit it out already," Rei calls. She's the only one not sitting up in a panic, mostly because the lower half of her body is buried in a cocoon of sand. One of her hands is digging in the sand, patting at a scoop of it like you would a snowball, and Usagi can't stop the squeak of nerves that escapes her throat as she recognizes what that means. "You're freaking everyone out worse, so one of you needs to just tell us what you messed up."

_ What? _

"It wasn't me!" Usagi yelps, at the same time that Jadeite shrugs, "It wasn't exactly me?"

It's a response to which even Usagi scowls, twisting around and planting both hands on her hips as she stares at him. 

"Really?" She demands, "That's not what you say when it's not your fault, that makes it sound like it's your fault!"

"Well, it's not, but -" Jadeite starts, and no, just no, that's almost as bad. 

"No buts! Mamochan says you're the group talker, I know you know better than this."

"_ I _ would love to know what the big problem is," Minako says sweetly, her voice practically in Usagi's ear, and she shrieks in surprise, jumping practically a foot in the air as she realizes that at some point Minako had managed to get within a foot of her without being noticed at all. Her heart is hammering maybe a thousand times a minute, and it feels like her eyes are spinning in little circles and all she can do is babble. 

"Oh my gosh, my heart, oh my gosh, I can't -"

Jadeite, kindly and mercifully, takes advantage of the fact that he doesn't have a heart that can be stopped in shock, and also the fact that really, this is _ his problem anyway _ even if it isn't his fault at all, she doesn't know why he even hinted that it could be, and says, "So the big problem is I can't find my rock. Not - anywhere, actually, and Tsukino-san couldn't find it either, and -"

Absolute pandemonium breaks out. So much for nobody panic. 

"What do you mean you can't find your rock - are you talking about your _ stone _ ?!" Mamoru shouts, and his voice cracks in panic halfway through, and Usagi and Jadeite wince as one. Oh, that's exactly what they didn't want to happen. That's _ exactly _ the thing that they were hoping to avoid, this part right here where Mamoru panics. 

"Yes, I mean that I can't find my stone, but don't panic, because I I know it's still here, and according to Tsukino-san's -"

"Usagi-san," Usagi interjects. 

"According to Tsukino-san's watch, we still have an hour before high tide comes in, so for the next hour, it will continue to still be here. So we don't have anything to worry about! We just have to find it before it's too late. Nothing to worry about. Like she said, don't panic."

For a moment, she even thinks that it might work. 

"Don't panic?! How can I do anything but panic right now?"

And all of this, by the way, is just Mamoru's reaction. Everyone else is also having a reaction, at the same time, from Minako's eyes rolling up to the sky to Nephrite slapping his hand to forehead to Ami's worried little correction that actually, they only have fifty-four minutes and thirty-seven seconds before high tide. These are all valid reactions, each and every one of them as meaningful as Mamoru's, conveying as much panic (in some cases) and concern (in some other cases) as he is, and yet, Usagi can't help that her primary focus is on Mamoru, and how badly he's taking this news. 

She wants nothing more than to run over and hug him, but she doesn't, because that's what would make _ her _ feel better, not what would make Mamoru feel better. Public displays of affection, especially in a place as public as this wouldn't do anything to help calm him down, now when he'd just be aware of all the eyes that might focus on them, the eyes that could be watching and staring and judging them for being so affection where anyone could see. So because she loves him, and she knows him, she doesn't just rush in to do what would make her feel better. She does what will make him feel better - closes the gap between them, yes, but doesn't grab for him, doesn't make him take her in his arms. 

"By trusting that we'll find him in time," she says, just for him, and smiles, trying to invite him to see the humor in all of this. "And by remembering that losing your friend in the sand at the beach is probably one of the funniest and weirdest thing to ever happen to us. It's like me losing Rei-chan in a corn maze. It could totally happen, but who'd be prepared for it?"

And it works, a little. She sees him start to smile, sees the worst of the panic and fear drain away from his face. 

"Now that you've gone and said that, I'm going to just be grateful I'm not weird enough to go running into one of those, because I'll absolutely end up lost now," Rei tells them both, ruining the moment and catching their full attention with her sudden appearance. Maybe that's an over-use of the word sudden, when the truth is more like she and Mamoru had stopped paying attention, but her appearance is still sudden _ to them _, so it still counts, right? Either way, Rei's just there and speaking to them all of a sudden, and Usagi just blinks, utterly caught off guard. 

"What?" She asks, blank, and her eyes catch on the layer of sand sticking to Rei's body, and Rei rolls her eyes. 

"A corn maze, Usagi-chan. Be glad that I wouldn't go into one, because now that you've said that, they're even more cursed than they usually are - look, I talked to Jadeite, and we're pretty sure the stone is somewhere between the castle he and Ami built, and the mini base Mako-chan made for them earlier, so why don't you guys start by the blanket, I'll start over there, and we'll find him. Okay? We're going to find him, and then we can put all four of them back in the box you brought.” 

Mamoru scrubs his face, exhaling slowly. He nods and Usagi nods, and both of them join Rei in getting back to work, following her instructions and joining an anxious Zoisite and concerned Makoto at the edge of their spot, where three of the colorful little umbrellas usually stuck into tropical drinks have been re-purposed to provide shade for the stones. Three of them are still present and accounted for, resting atop a handkerchief that's been repurposed to serve as a blanket for them.

Usagi isn't totally sure when Makoto had set this up - she thinks it might have been during the melon bash game - but it's cute, to have the Shitennou's stones set up like they're just enjoying a day at the beach too, and she's just a little sad they're going to have to put them back in their boxes after this, to keep them safe. 

"Mamoru-kun, Usagi-chan, I think the best thing for us to do is pick up the others and then dig around here," Makoto says as greeting, her face pinched with concern. 

Zoisite agrees, his tone sharp as he says, "I'd recommend digging at least six inches. If some idiot stepped in him, I could see the sand getting that deep, and the wind covered him in sand, he might just be right at the top. The only thing we do know is that at least an animal didn't snatch the idiot - the rest of us wouldn't still be here."

"Let's not think about the animals," Mamoru says, raising one hand, and she winces as she imagines the worst case scenario and anyway, picturing seagulls sporting the shiny stones and carrying them away or someone's dog finding a new treasure to run off with. None of those things had happened, they can be reasonably sure of that, because an animal wouldn't have kept Jadeite in close quarters with the rest of them for so long, but it's an awful thought nonetheless. "Let's just get down to it. Zoisite, keep an eye on our progress, and tell us if you see anything we don't."

They start digging, all three of them, scooping away sand with their hands and piling it some distance away, a shape like a most appearing around the three remaining stones, and then just a hole, as the three stones were put away and their little haven taken down to be searched. 

But they don't find a single glimpse of a blue stone, and Usagi can see Mamoru getting more and more tense by the second, more and more worried, and she knows he's thinking the worst, and she doesn't know how to tell him not too, when they aren't finding anything -

"Found him!" Ami calls, her voice ringing out from beside the sandcastle she and Jadeite had been working on hours before. The stone is held above her head, sparkling in the sunlight. 

Mamoru's head snaps up, and he's scrambling in her direction by the time Usagi is just barely able to get her feet out from under her, relief radiating off him like a candle. Zoisite follows him, unhindered by the sand, his usual politely (sort of smugly, actually) blank face painted with worry and relief as well. 

Usagi breathes a sigh of relief herself, but a frown remains on her face, and as she looks up at Makoto, she sees the same look of lingering worry. They fixed it, this time, they found the missing stone, but Usagi can't help but think that if the Shitennou were real boys, with bodies of their own, it wouldn't have even been a problem. 

And judging by the look on Makoto's face, she might have company with that thought.

* * *

Minako waits thirty minutes before she makes her move. As far as she's concerned, that's more than enough time to release the energy of sheer panic and let everyone loosen up enough for her to get what she needs to get done, done. 

In this case, what needs to be done is her snatching a certain pale pink stone from the box containing the rest of the Shitennou stones (now placed atop the foot table and closed, away from the reach of sand or animals), and leveling a look at Mamoru. It"s a look he's seen before, and one that he accepts, as she knew he would, his throat working as he swallows and then nods. 

She isn't transformed, so she isn't actually all that sure this will work, but her fist clenches around the stone and a flicker runs through Kunzite, like a television dealing with a burst of bad reception, and he (and the rest of the Shitennou) turn to stare in her direction. 

She sees the moment he understands, the moment he accepts that oh, they have something to talk about. His shoulders, stiff with surprise, loosen minutely, and his expression does the same, softening from the stern stiffness she remembers from the battlefield to something a touch uncertain. Good. He should be uncertain. She hears it, too, in the way that his low voice offers an, "Excuse me," to his team. He's nervous, but he's coming along. 

He's nervous, and it's obvious the rest of them are too, Nephrite and Jadeite still stiff as boards where they'd been standing and talking as a group, and Zoisite's face twisted in frustration. That's not surprising. Her own team is nervous too,all but Rei, all but Rei who's on the same page as her without a word having to be said, who'd picked up on the same thing that she did, and decidedly on exactly what needed to be done. She wouldn't be surprised if Rei had been thinking of doing this exact thing.

She's isn't surprised that Zoisite's the one to snap at her. 

"We were in the middle of something," he snaps, "Do you mind?"

"Yes," she says bluntly, and she sees Makoto slap a hand to her face in exasperation, sees Ami lower the brim of her hat to cover her eyes, sees Usagi nervously bite at her lip while Mamoru holds her hand. She tosses in a smile, not because she feels it, but because it's what she does. "I'm taking this for a few minutes."

Kunzite has already started in her direction, and Zoisite stomps right alongside him, sputtering with frustration. "This?!"

"Yeah, this, as in this stone, this man, this. I'll be borrowing them a minute, m'kay?" She widens her smile to a grin, but her eyes are serious, and that's why Kunzite's still waking towards her. "Leader to leader, but don't you worry, I'll bring him back."

And while he walks to her, she walks away, towards the rising surf, and into the tide, where prying ears won't eavesdrop. 

"You can't take him into the sea, you'll drop him," Zoisite shouts from behind her, and with a quick roll of her eyes, Minako twists around so he - and they - can see her, and tugs back the neck of her bikini top. The stone fits just fine in there, held firm by the top and her cleavage, and it's worth it for the fact that every single Shitennou - and Mamoru, and especially Kunzite - chokes audibly

There are no more objections. 

She waits until her feet find grounding on a sandbar meters and meters out, the water at knee level and the waves crashing around her waist and shoulders. She's not playing around anymore, not like she had been with Makoto and the rest earlier, and the waves barely cause her stance to shift. She's silent for a moment, not because she doesn't know what to say but because she still questions if they're the right words to give. 

Kunzite is the first to break the silence, his normally smooth voice faltering for a moment. Is it really that embarrassing to him, to have the stone there, or is it just his awareness - as she is aware, as she's researched - that the stone is vulnerable to salt water, and that even on the ground she still has his life in her hands? Both, probably. Her memories of Venus say that he was the awkward sort. 

Her memories of Venus say a lot of things. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" He asks finally. "I assume you have greater priorities than tormenting me."

She smiles, slow. She could stop it, but she doesn't. "Are you feeling tormented?"

His answer comes a touch to slow. "...No."

"Good," she says sweetly, before the smile drops and she faces him. "Because Mamoru and Usagi are planning to bring the four of you back."

And this, this is why she didn't want an audience. Because this is a matter they need to settle first, as leader to leader, as soldier to soldier, as the two responsible for the care of headstrong royalty, as the two with blemishes on their record. 

Venus had failed to save her charge. Kunzite had betrayed his. 

The blood is still on their hands, no matter how many times she saves her princess, that mark will never come clean. She hopes that he feels the same, that his failure dogs him, that his failure will drive him on for the rest of their foreseeably endless future. 

She sees his eyes widen in shock, a visual tic he must not have been able to entirely abandon, and then he nods, just once. He had been like this before, as an enemy. He never reacted the way the others did, cool and pragmatic and ever trying to avoid giving anything away, at least until the end. His tone is neutral when he asks, "And you're telling me this because?"

"Because we both know that what they want they'll have. If you've been watching Mamoru as closely as I have Usagi, you know that's one of the few things that hasn't changed. Usagi doesn't believe in no win scenarios, and Mamoru doesn't give up on the things he really believes in. And both of them will do anything for the people they love. For Mamoru, right now, that's you. And for Usagi, that's _ him _. So you're coming back. Congratulations, that train is already on the tracks. I want to know what I'm working with?"

"Don't you mean who?" He asks, and there's a rare note of audible bitterness in his voice, self-recrimination. 

"No. I mean what," she confirms, and never mind that he truly dwarfs her in height, that she's the one physically looking up. As far as this moment is concerned, she's looking down at him. "Are you a true believer? A penitent soldier? A reluctant commander? You told me Beryl fucked you up, and I believe that. Now I need you to tell me what that means."

"For you?" He asks, his eyes dark. 

"For _ you _. I know where I stand, and you don't change that." He doesn't. For all that binds their ancient past, for all the betrayal and hurt feelings and old love that crowds her heart, left over from a woman who had been her in face and duty and destiny, but not in heart. She had loved him once, but that woman hadn't been her, not truly. She was just a ghost, caught in Minako's skin. She can't escape ghosts, not when they've laid a foundation for this future, but she can decide how much power to give them. She's chosen who will have her heart oh, and it isn't this man. Venus would have killed him to protect her Princess’ life. To protect Usagi's heart, Minako is going to have to let him live.

She isn’t sure how she feels about that, honestly. But it’s what has to happen, and even if she hasn’t made peace with the decision, even if she hasn’t made peace with _ Kunzite _, she needs to make sure that they’re at least on the same page. So she waits, as the waves crash against her back and the sun beats down on her skin, for him to get his thoughts in order. 

“I suppose it isn’t helpful to say ‘a man’,” he says finally, and there’s a wryness to his tone that has her biting her tongue on the urge to snap at him. Rei’s been rubbing on her - she hasn’t felt this tempted by her temper in ages. “But that’s all I wish to be. I was the monster at the ready, striking fear in the hearts of Endymion’s enemies. I was the demon Beryl unleashed to keep her forces in line, to whip the armies of humanity’s worst into shape at her command. Mamoru - somehow, I don’t think he’ll accept either. If nothing else, I don't wish to disappoint him."

"You're right," she confirms, face carefully neutral. "It isn't very helpful."

It's a good answer, by most standards. Sentimental, and sweet even. But it isn't _ enough _. Can anything be enough? Can she ever trust him?

"I want to be a friend to Mamoru, as well as his guardian. I want to be to him, what you and yours are to Usagi-san. What I am, is a ghost carved out of regrets but what I will be, if he gives me this chance, is his friend. Not his minion, his general, but someone he can trust his heart too. I won't ask for your trust, but if you would be willing - I would appreciate if I could have your help. Because you _ are _ his friend, and I know that you'll be watching, as you deserve to be."

As he speaks, a wave crashes against her back, and for a moment, the water rises to her waist, and the white-flecked foam passes through him, sparkling with sunlight like liquid gold. 

He doesn't deserve her help. He doesn't deserve her forgiveness. 

But she hasn't forgiven herself either, for her failures. His were worse, are worse, but this is happening, and she wants him to succeed. She wants him to prove her wrong, because he's right. She's Mamoru's friend too, and she wants him to be happy.

"You don’t have to ask for my help. I'll be pulling you across the finish line, kicking and screaming. You don't get to mess this up again."

* * *

All days end, no matter how long awaited, no matter how dreaded. This Saturday, which has come to represent so much, is no different. Hours go by, as the sun makes its journey across the sky, and the food is eaten and games are played and laughs are shared and it isn’t that it’s all better, it isn’t that they leave it all behind, but that was never what this was all about. That was never what this day was about at all. 

Before the day is over, but when the end of it can no longer be denied, the group splits into two, and the girls drag Usagi off - or Usagi drags the girls, who can tell, who knows - and they sit together in the sand, watching the sky dyed brilliantly pink and red and blue by the slowly setting sun. They’ll have to leave soon, but soon isn’t now, isn’t this very moment, and besides, there’s something still to settle. 

“What do you think?” Usagi asks, her voice quiet. Her eyes focused on the sea, on the rise and fall, sparkling with the dying sun, the reflection of light too painful to watch for long and yet equally impossible to keep away from. She doesn’t elaborate.

She doesn’t have to. Every one of them knows what she means. 

“We have to do it,” Makoto is the first to speak, her expression serious, her eyes firm. She doesn’t waver for a second, ever the embodiment of courage. “It’d be one thing if they were dead and we were talking about trying to bring them back. Maybe I’d think differently, then. But they aren’t, and this is cruel.”

“We don’t even know if we _ can _ bring them back,” Rei points out, not-quite arguing. She isn’t looking at the sky - she’s looking at Minako, who’s resting her head on her shoulder, eyes closed as if asleep. She knows she isn’t, but still, her voice is quieter, gentler than usual nonetheless. “Wouldn’t it be cruel to promise something we can’t deliver?”

“If they were truly gone, that would be a genuine point,” Ami responds calmly. Her hat rests on her lap, her legs folded beneath her. “But they’re somewhere in between, and they still respond to energy - ours, and Mamoru-kun’s. There’s a way to bring them back. I’m certain of it. The real question is how long would it take to find success?”

“Does it matter?” The question comes from Minako, whose eyes have yet to open. “The question isn’t can we. It’s should we. Usagi-chan wants us too, and Mako-chan’s said her piece. What about the rest of you?”

“And you haven’t either,” Makoto notes. Her brows furrow as she looks to her leader. “What do you say?”

“I say I call dibs on going last,” and Minako hides her smile in Rei’s shoulder, twisting so that the fall of black hair covers her expression. It’s telling, maybe, that she’s fallen back to teasing, but she doesn’t want to influence the others, and for all that she’d put on a brave face in her talk with Kunzite, she’s not nearly as sure of her decision as she’d acted, doesn’t have the surety of confidence that Makoto has, the calm of ancient oaks, of roots buried in the earth and centuries of storms weathered. The compassion of someone willing to offer their whole, open heart, knowing what hurt it could bring. 

“Well, if we’re bringing dibs into this,” Rei says sarcastically, her tone fooling no one. If she really had anything against it, she wouldn’t be sitting back, letting herself be used as both cushion and shield all at once. “I think we should do it.”

They stare at her, Usagi and Ami and Makoto. If they had been asked who would be most against it - they would have all guessed Rei. 

Usagi is the first to speak, swallowing hope. “Not so we can kill them for good, right?”

“What? _ No _, dummy, if that's what I wanted I would have just said we should break them now. I would have already chucked Jadeite off the roof!”

“It’s hard to believe you wouldn’t be even a little tempted when you say things like that!” Usagi protests, as Makoto, Ami and even Minako burst into giggles - horrified giggles, for Makoto and Ami, knowing ones for Minako. “It makes it sound like you’ve been thinking about it!”

“I _ was _ thinking about it. That’s why I’m saying we should do it - because I thought about it, and I couldn’t do it. It’s not who I want us to be.” The laughter dies at that, attention slowly drawn back to what Rei’s saying, to the conviction in her voice. “Maybe this is cruel, the way they live now. But I think we’d be worse if we killed them now, when they can’t do anything. If we bring them back and it was a mistake - fine. We’ll do what we have to. But even if they aren’t innocent, they’re still helpless. And we _ protect _helpless people, even when their inability to communicate caused the apocalypse.”

“When you say it like _ that _ it almost sounds like we shouldn’t do it,” Ami muses, and then shakes her head. “I don’t want to hate someone for the rest of my life. It hasn’t been long enough for me to like them. But I’m ready to forgive them. Even if they didn’t deserve that, I know that I do. We’re going to be stuck together, them and us, for longer than anyone else - except maybe Setsuna-san - has been alive. We’re going to see the end of the world together.”

No one says anything, not for a long moment. They let the weight of that thought settle in, as they watch the sunset. They’ve all thought of it, over the years, over the last few months. The world is ending, and no one knows, not really. The world is going to end in less than ten years, and they’re going to graduate from high school in eight months. They’re going to be adults, and they’re going to save the world, again, and again, until they can’t anymore. Until the only thing left is a future a thousand years off, a shining city of crystal and lives that they can’t comprehend, even now, even having seen it with their own eyes. 

The world’s going to end, and they don’t know how and they don’t know why and they don’t know what - but when it does, they’ll still be here. The six of them, and the Outers, and the Shitennou. 

“It’s a good thing, that this happened. I wish Mamochan hadn’t kept it a secret, but I’m glad they’re alive. I think he’s going to need them. And I think _ we’re _going to need them, even if I don’t like Nephrite, even if Zoisite’s kind of a jerk. It’s too hard.” Usagi hadn’t meant to say anything, really. She’d wanted to let her friends tell her what they wanted, and she’d hoped that it would be what she wanted, but she didn’t want to pressure them. She doesn’t want to pressure them. But the words escape her nonetheless, and she can’t regret them. “Maybe fourteen isn’t that much better than ten, but it’s something. Maybe we won’t be able to stop what’s going to happen, but maybe we’ll be able to make it better. And even if we can’t - at least we’ll have more company.”

“Company,” Minako repeats softly, and they all turn to her, and listen. “Yeah. We’ll have company. And Mamoru will too, company that he really wants. And that you want. And that you’ll have, Usagi-chan.”

“Minako-chan?” Hope stills the breath in her chest, as Usagi waits, her limbs drawn in close. This isn’t a majority rules decision. This is something they all have to live with. This is unanimity or nothing. 

“We should find a way to bring them back. They think they can do better - and if they’re willing to try, if they’re willing to be under our watch, if they’re willing to put in the work and do what they have to, then,” and she stops, and she has to breathe, inhale the scent of Rei’s shampoo and the salty air and the dampness of the sea and the coming chill of evening and life. Life, happening all around them. Life, and the future, and them. And in her mind’s eye, Minako sees a princess of the Moon with a smile like the sun. She doesn’t see her death. She doesn’t see the end, the curtain call on her life. She remembers her the way Venus remembered her, with warmth in her eyes as she talked about a planet called Earth. “Then let’s do it. Let’s keep being the people you think we can be, Usagi-chan. Let’s make all those second chances worth something.”

“Let’s keep making friends out of enemies,” Makoto agrees, voice wistful. In the back of her mind Makoto remembers the scents of baking cookies and green, growing things, the impression of voices she no longer remembers, but still misses. She thinks about the girl who had stretched out her hand in friendship, and the boy who missed his parents too. She remembers how it felt, to finally come home again. 

“And keep finding new solutions,” Ami adds, fingers curled in the soft brim of her hat. She thinks of her original quest, the research that had lead her to the Shitennou in the first place, and she thinks about what more they could learn, doing this. If they can save the Shitennou, who else can they save? How many doors will this open?

“And taking chances, I guess. It’s worked out for us this long,” but Rei’s exasperation is as false as her smile is true. She dips her head, resting her cheek against the curve of Minako’s head, the soft material of her bow brushing against her skin. She thinks about love, new love, and lost love, and how in the end, that’s what this is all about. “Why stop now?”

“You guys,” Usagi starts, and stops, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over. “You guys are the best.”

It’s the hottest summer on record, and at the end of a very, very long week, a new chapter is finally opening. There is more to come, of course. There’s good news to share, and supplies to pack, and a train to catch home. But for just this moment, as Mamoru walks across the beach with his friends, Usagi sits with her own, and knows this is the only place she wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline Notes:
> 
> This is a fusion between Anime and Manga canon, with the Shitennou having their anime deaths, and most of the anime events happening, except the R break up, which did not happen and we won't talk about. Likewise, I've made a small change in that Jadeite outright died in Classic, instead of just being frozen in ice and forgotten about. 
> 
> Additionally, this story takes place in the year 1999, three and a half months after the end of the Stars saga. The manga that Usagi and Mamoru make references to throughout is Fruits Basket, which was mid-series in 1999.


End file.
